The Warrior and the Champion: A New Dawn
by The Immortal Captain
Summary: AngelxDawn  That's right! Angel and Dawn! After the Gift, Dawn runs away to L.A. Will her presence create problems for the Hyperian? R&R Not sure how to Rate it
1. Chapter 1

**Title: _The Warrior and the Champion: A New Dawn_**

**Author: **Death by Vista

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **_Buffy sacrifices herself to save the Key… and Dawn runs to the only person she ca think of: Angel. What problems will the youngest Summers' presence in the Hyperion cause? _

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own these characters._

**Note: ** /.../ thoughts; -...- dream

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"You know, if you're going to sit in here sulking, you could at least_** pretend**_ to debate my impending raise, ya know.." Cordelia Chase's voice was a rather loud announcement of her sudden presence in her Boss' office. Angel didn't bother to look up from the nondescript tome laid open upon his desk, knowing that to acknowledge her would somehow give her the impression she could stay. However, he did manage a rather subtle scowl at the Ex-May Queen's chosen topic. Indeed, her _only_ topic as of late.. as if she were some broken record stuck perpetually on a nag cycle. 

"Yeah.. I'm fairly sure we've been over this once before, Cordelia. No, wait, _many_ times before: I do not have the money to give you a raise! Sorry." This time, it is Cordelia who scowls. Though in all truth, it falls a bit short, coming out as an irritated pout. And, in Angel's mind, not even a cute one. Just.. annoying. Anyways, with one hand propped defiantly on her hip, and the other waving emphatically, she plunders on as if she hadn't heard.

"My landlord is having a major wiggins about my inability to pay rent on time! And he's being mean! You know, threatening, and – arrhhh!" Her hands raises quickly to her throbbing temples and she barely manages to guide her bum to the stiff chair located behind her.. saving herself from an embarrassing fall to the ground. As she suffers the sights and sounds of her latest Higher Power whammy, she is vaguely aware of Angel screaming for Gunn to bring meds. Ah, sweet, medicinal relief! It really sucks being a Higher Power's lapdog! Cordelia bursts into tears, her slender form rocking back and forth within the strict confines of the chair. So much pain.. so much loss.. Angel, Wes, and Gunn watch on, perplexed and swallowed by an endless sense of uselessness as she goes through the vision alone.. always alone. Angel kneels before his closest friend, cool fingers gently wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Shh.. it's alright, Cordy. We're right here with you.. but we need to know what you saw so we can help.." She begins to inhale breath sharply, as if she has been running for ages, and is now heavily winded.

"She's so sad.. so alone, Angel! At.. at a bus terminal, with red signs everywhere. A gang of vampires were attacking.. oh God, she wanted them to get her.. to kill her! And she.. I think.. we know her, somehow. ..!" She fades out into wrenching sobs as she fights the emotions of the vision. It takes much probing and prodding, but they manage to get a few more details and take off into the misty night, prepared to be heroes.

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Her breathing rattled harshly within her chest. Her lungs felt on fire, burning with every pump of her legs. She had just vacated the bus terminal when they descended upon her. Blood thirsty vampires. Despite her ruthless desire to let them rip her to shreds, her instincts took over, and forced her to run. Fat lot of good that had done! She had no recollection of this part of L.A. So, through the maze of dark, decrepit alleys, and relentlessly twisting streets, she finds herself right back at the bus terminal where she started.

The teen was just preparing to duck into a side alley when it happened. A large pair of hands wrapped into the smooth material of her rucksack and gave a violent tug backward. She fell gracelessly onto her back, arms flailing, legs kicking as 250 pounds of vampire flesh pressed her flat to the grimy alley floor. Fortunate for her, the vampire was so consumed with blood lust, and so intent on getting at her rapid pulse point, it had no time to register the quick movement of her hand.. to see the thin, long piece of wood she pulled from her jacket pocket. Oh, but it felt it.. felt the wood pierce it's flesh and dig deep into it's dead heart. The creature seemed to melt inward, a cloud of dust exploding over her. She coughed and gagged as it settled.. dusting her hair and clothes.. casting an eerie white about her.

She barely managed to gain her footing in just enough time for two members of the vamp gang to plow her football player style to the pavement once more. Stars swirled within her range of sight as pain tidal waved against her senses.. receding, then thrashing all the harder.. deeper into her. The coppery scent of blood hung thick and alluring in the alley, the cuts so fresh upon her stomach having split open and allowed her vitae to ooze out. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was a black, billowing coat that looked so oddly like Spikes. But here.. in L.A.? Had he truly followed her?

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The look of sadness and pain in Cordelia's eyes had drained much morale for the employees of Angel Investigations. They were, after all, her close friends... family, even. Angel, Wes, and Gunn had basically fled from the poor woman.

"Yo, man.. I don't mean to be the downer.. but there ain't nothing here. Maybe Miss C got the wrong address.." Gunn grumbled as they walked the terminal Cordy had struggled to describe. Angel quickly put distance between him and his associated, knowing a tiff was soon to follow.

"Or, perhaps, you are being a tad impatient, Charles. It would be prudent to scout about in case the victim does show." Bickerin' like a bunch of two year olds!

"Well, I'm just sayin.." Angel whirled about then, jacket billowing ominously as he faced them angrily.

"Quiet, both of you! There are bad guys around, remember? Besides, someone's coming... er.. a lot of someones.." Angel ran for the opening of an alley at the far end of the bus terminal. He was just in time to see the girl attacked by the first vamp when she rounded the corner. And just as Cordy had said, he somehow knew this girl.. even though her face was obscured.. something about her scent..

However, he did not have time to ponder this new train of thought, because just as she gained her footing, two more vamps were upon her, and blood filled the stale night air. Since he was the closest, with added vampire speed and all, he descended upon the fledglings. He thrust both hands forward, his fancy wrist-deployed stakes ripped through their hearts and caused a halo of white dust to fall upon the unconscious form.

Dust clung to rumpled denim and torn cotton... a few specks littered tear stained cheeks and silken tendrils of deep brown. Her beautiful features were such a macabre mask of sadness... her posture one that welcomed death. Angel wanted to cry for the defeat this poor soul embraced. He then did something he tries his hardest to avoid: he breathed. A sharp intake of stale breathe when he had no need of air. You see, he did indeed know this teenager. Lying broken and defeated before him was none other than Dawn Summers. He heard Wes and Gunn approach, which he took to mean that the stragglers were dead, and the fight was over. So, with speed and infinite care, he picked Dawn up and carried her back to the Hyperion.

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"God, it's about time! I was beginning to think I'd be stuck here all night..." Cordelia angrily chastised Wes and Gunn as they entered the hotel. It was, of course, her way of expressing concern for her friends without appearing to care.

"Please fetch some bandages, Cordy. The girl is injured. You were right. She's young Miss..." Wesley is cut off in mid sentence as Cordy pushes past him.

"...Dawn!" She gasps as Angel entered, the girl still cradled limply in his arms. He leveled a very impatient gaze at the woman as he settled Dawn down into a chair.

" Cordy.. bandages, _**now**_!" He growled the last word with such vehemence that everyone feared he would go bumpy. He didn't, but it had been enough to make the drama queen move for the first aid kit.

"Gunn.. Wes.. prepare the room across from mine.. fresh sheets and everything. Cordy, think you can bandage her up?" Gunn looked as if Angel's command to play nursemaid was going to send him into a fit. However, when he sees flecks of gold in a normally chocolate brown gaze, he keeps his peace. So, up to the room the two went while Cordelia bandaged Dawn's stomach.

Angel retreated to the kitchen, half-heartedly searching cupboards and shelves for something to fix the girl. He settled on a large glass of orange juice and re-heating some homemade soup Wesley had brought for supper. He figured the man wouldn't mind sacrificing the stuff for their friend.

//Why would Dawn come to L.A.? What could've driven the Key to _**my**_ city? What creature robbed Dawnie of her innocent beauty?! Why has no one come for the girl? How could Buffy let this happen!?//

"Uh-oh.. brood alert. Shouldn't you be calling Buffy or Willow and telling them we have the Slayer's little sister here? I don't know about you, but I could so go without a Slayer bitch fest!" Cordy launched into one of her verbal tirades as she pushed past Angel and stirred the soup he neglected. Angel growled this time.. low and distant, though he managed a few coherent words.

"Her. **Name**.**Is**. **Dawn**!" He emphasized each word in a growled tone that caused Cordy to flinch. Something he missed as her back was to him.

" I know **Dawn's** name. **Dawn** has been moved upstairs. **Dawn** will be awake soon, and probably hungry. So, excuse me!" She pushed not too gently past him, bowl of soup in one hand, glass of juice in the other.

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- pain.. leather tethers twisting.. tearing.. burning into the tender flesh of wrists. The starry night sky clear and unyielding. Her friends were engaged in a battle on another world.. because her world consisted of this swaying scaffold and leather bindings that held her captive. She is the Key.. she is not of their world. And then.. as it happened every night since **The Night**, he is suddenly there.. that smile so cruel because it is simple and teasing.. cruel because there is no malice, no evil corruption.. just an unwavering sense of duty and loyalty as the knife arks.. as sharpened teeth slowly cut through fabric and bite into the flesh beneath. Left of stomach.. right of stomach.. blood flowing freely -

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She awoke to the sound of screaming sobs. Only after her mind shook free of the lingering nightmare did she realize that the earsplitting sound was coming from her. Dawn gulped for air.. forced every breath in and out, though lungs desired nothing more than to cease function.

She was aware of Cordy.. short hair bobbing as she fussed over a bowl and glass sitting haphazard upon an end table. Some black guy she did not recognize was holding up the doorframe, arms crossed in front of him, scowling something awful. Mr. Wesley was pacing at the foot of the bed pulling the best Giles impression Dawn had ever seen. He was muttering something indistinct, a white handkerchief furiously cleaning his glasses. All that was missing was Angel...

And then she realized someone was whispering soothing words.. lips almost pressed to the curve of her ear.. a pair of cool arms, silk clad, cradled her form protectively. On instinct, her mind registered this as Spike, so she curled closer.. tighter into the caring embrace.

"S..Spike?" She had barely managed to croak from parched lips. She heard Cordelia gasp as if she had been burned, and Wesley intake a sharp, ragged breathe. Add that to the sudden cease of soothing words, and she knew it was not the bleached wonder.

"Dawn..?" The voice implored softly from behind her. The voice of a 400+-year-old vampire that was trying to mask the pain and indignation in that one, simple word. Angel. No.. he would hate her too! Not Angel.. she couldn't let him hate her too.. She suddenly pushed free of Angel's arms, rushing for the door and some modicum of freedom, which was a bad idea, because Gunn was still perched there. He tensed visibly and gave no indication of vacating his spot.

"Miss Summers.. please calm down. You are perfectly safe! You are at Angel investigations.. p-please.. I'll just ring your sister, and we can get this all straightened out.." Wrong answer, Brit boy. Dawn screamed uncontrollably then, launched herself at Gunn with fingers arched in threatening claws. Too bad for him he was the closest. She began to beat her fists against him, nails slashing down his back as he tried to get a hold of her slender form.. long, angry gashes pouring small trickles of blood down his shirt.

"Move! Lemme out! He'll hate me too! Just like Xander.. Willow.. you'll all wish I'd died instead!" She was wailing now, fighting harder, and forcing Gunn to reign in his mounting desire to fight back.

"Damn, get this crazy chick off me!" He grunted, finally snapping and giving Dawn a violent shove. Angel was there yet again, his silk clad arms engulfing her waist to keep her from falling. Cordy ushered the other two from the room as Dawn turned, clinging desperately to Angel this time.

"I-I'm sorry, Angel! I cou-couldn't stop her.. it's my..my fault! I.. I should be dead, not B-Buffy!" Her voice came out a pinched, hopeless sob. "The Key was supposed to die.. I.. I tried to make it r-right, I did.. I.. tried to jump, but sh-she wouldn't let me! Go ahead and hate me.. everyone else does!" With that said, she fell limp in his arms, having lost all will to fight. Now it was Angel's turn to look lost and despaired. Many things had happened upon his return from Hell. Chief amongst them had been his relationship with the Slayer. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't still in love with her to some degree.. just not to the point that his love for her consumed all other things. He had, however, partially lied when he said he left Sunnydale for her. Maybe a part of him had.. but, for the majority, he left to be free of her. That's right, free. Free to search for his redemption. And now, Buffy was gone, and Dawnie lay broken in his arms.. her beautiful light diminished by darkness.

"Shhh.. it's okay, Dawnie. No one hates you.. I don't hate you! But we don't have to discuss this now.. it can wait. You need to rest and eat something... please." The last word brooked no argument, and the look of protest died upon her features. Instead, she allowed herself to be guided back to the bed, a bowl of lukewarm soup thrust into one hand, a glass of room temperature OJ into the other. "Eat.. Cordy or someone will be up to check on you in a bit." He was gone before she had time to protest.. or think really.

"Man, that had to be tough.. trying to comfort the girl and she calls him Spike?! Harsh.." Cordelia regretted the topic as soon as Angel rounded the corner. As quick as he was, he couldn't hide the look of pain and rejection that pooled in those chocolate brown orbs.. already layered with centuries of pain.. now with two new pains to taint his soul.. to fuel his need for redemption. Yeah, everyone could feel a nice, long brood in the air. But then, the pain was gone. Hidden by that mask of mysterious, emotionless cool.

"I'll be in my office.." brooding, so don't disturb. Everyone mentally finished his sentence for him as he retreated into the half-light of his office and closed the door.

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Dawn had grudgingly done as Angel requested, eating the soup and finishing the juice. They left a bad taste in her mouth as she placed the empty dishes on the bedside table. With a shiver, she made her way to her rucksack and slipped it back on.. glad to have the familiar weight added. Once she was ready, she made a mad dash for the door.. only to find Wesley staring her down.

"I would not advise a retreat at this moment, Miss Summers. Your wounds are still quite fresh, and as you have seen, this does not prove a hospitable city."

"Dawn. My name is Dawn. You.. she was Miss Summers to you. I.. I'm not her!" A fresh wave of tears threatened to spill as she eyed Wes, tried to find the best route through him.

"You might as well remove your shoes and stay a spell. I highly doubt Angel will let you leave here until he is sure what has happened."

"Angel so is not the boss of me! And.. and it's pretty obvious what's happened.. BUFFY IS DEAD! She died to save the KEY! She died to save me, a sister that isn't real. Giles.. Tara.. Spike.. they all wish I would've died like I was suppose to. They wish Little Dawnie was dead and out of their lives so they would still have Buffy! And.. and you know what? SO DO I!"

Dawn's sudden rant sent Wes into a state of fluster that had him grabbing her bowl and glass and brandishing them as if they were a shield. Just as suddenly as she began to rant, it ended and she was in a sad stupor. Great, two broods under one roof. All is doomed.

"Wesley? Where are you? The 'boss' is on the phone, and we should so be there when he gets through!" Cordelia peeked in through Dawn's door. She strolled casually forward as if she were making her way toward Wes, but she turned at the last minute.. grabbing hold of Dawn's rucksack and pulling sharply, the pack pulling free in her hands. Wes cleared the room quickly, carrying the dishes to the kitchen. Cordelia sighed and slung the pack over her shoulder.

"Running away is not the answer, Dawn. You are way too smart to do something like that. So, I'm gonna hand this over to Angel to hold onto.. you know, to ensure you keep those wonderful smarts." When the teen made no response, she turned and prepared to exit in the same fashion as Wes. She was half out the door when the girl's broken, flat voice stopped her.

"There's.. a few things I want out of it first.." Cordelia quirked an inquisitive brow, but shrugged and handed it over. After rummaging for a few, Dawn began to remove items. First, a large, red velvet jewelry box that had a Japanese design... then a fancy sketch book with brand new pencils.. and a beautiful leather journal. It was the only one to have escaped the torching of the Dawnmeister Chronicles. The jewelry box had been a birthday present from Xander. It contained some jewelry of Buffy's and a few things that had been her Mum's. The sketch book and pencils had been a birthday present from Willow and Tara.

The beautiful, supple black leather journal with inlaid Celtic knot.. her most prized possession. It was a goodbye present given to her by Angel on the night of the Mayor's Ascension. Buffy had never known Angel went straight from the High School to Dawn's room. Needless to say, the teen had been surprised to find Angel standing inside her room, the parcel clutched awkwardly in his hands. Dawn knew many memories.. well, almost every one, were fake. It was a fake memory that brought the journal into her possession.

When Angel came back from Hell, Buffy spent all of her time taking care of him. Dawn had been forgotten. But, as usual, what Buffy didn't know, didn't get people hurt. And what Buffy didn't know was that Dawn followed her one night. She and Angel went from never interacting, to becoming an integral part of each other's lives. Dawn would sneak out to Angel's mansion when she knew Buffy had left to patrol for the night. She'd sit in a corner on the cold concrete floors, drawing Angel while he practiced his brooding Tai Chi. Or, she would write her newest entry in the Chronicles while he read some volume of poetry, or studied a tome on some ancient evil that might one day pose a threat to the world. Some nights, as rare as it was, they would sit in conversation, Angel listening with genuine interest to the happenings of her day. He would even, on these scarce occasions, tell her tidbits of his life as a mortal. And so it was she had come to trust Angel better than any of the Scoobies.

She placed her sketch book and pencils on the dresser next to the jewelry box. One hand lingered on the velvet for a moment before she picked up the journal and her ballpoint pen. She quickly scanned the room, having had no time to do so earlier due to her 'stunning' hysterics. She found a bare window seat that was long and wide enough she could comfortably lie there. So, she grabbed pillows and blankets and set herself up a posh little sleeping spot. She curled up on the seat, cracked open the blank journal, and prepared her first entry.

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"Rupert?" The slightly Irish tones quested from the other end of the line. Rupert Giles had been finishing the paperwork that would deed the Magic Box to his partner Anya. He had been surprised, to say the least, when he heard the voice.

"Angel?" The older gentleman managed to stammer forth, his mind already headed for mental breakdown with the impending doom the vampire's call must signal. "Bloody hell! What apocalypse is coming now?! Between Buffy and Dawn, we don't have the time or the resources!" At Giles sudden outburst and Ripperesque behavior, Tara, Willow, Xander, Anya, and Spike turned to face him. They had dug Buffy's grave three weeks ago.

"S-so.. so what I heard was true..? Buffy is dead.. I assume Glory is the cause?" Dawn's words echoed suddenly within his mind, and he found himself dreading what Giles' answer might be. Did they really blame Dawn.. hate her even? As he fought the horror of this thought, Angel paced the perimeter of his office.

"How.. how did you know!?" Giles panicked. No one could know that his daughter.. his Slayer was dead.

"How long has Dawn been missing?" Angel asked in a crisp tone. Angel almost prayed that Giles would launch into some desperate account of how they had searched high and low for the girl.. hoped Giles would alleviate some of the anger that was rapidly filling him.

"Hmm? Oh, well Spike insists she has been missing for two days now, but I am more than sure it has only been a few hours..." Giles spoke so nonchalantly about Dawn's absence that Angel was livid with fury. It took all of his self restraint to keep from breaking the cordless phone that rested so tight within his hand.. or, worse, putting a fist through his office wall.

"Put. Spike. On. Now!" he snarled the demand through gritted teeth. His anger was so vast, that he had slipped into his vampire visage without thinking. He managed to calm himself only after he distinctly heard the rustling of Spike's duster and the closing of a thick door.

"Alright, Peaches.. no little buggers to interrupt. How did you know Buffy was dead, and why are you asking after Dawn?!" Spike's normal guttersnipe drawl had been dropped for Queen's Proper in his state of worry.

"So, the Scoobies refuse to believe Dawn has been gone for a few days? Have they even bothered to look for her!?!" Angel was now growling.. snarling as his anger continued to swell. Cordy and Wes both stepped a dozen paces back from the door they had been eavesdropping through. Without actually speaking, they had reached a mutual agreement that this was a conversation they should skip. So, Cordy went to her desk, and Wes went to the kitchen to warm up his soup.

"Calm down, Angel. I've not heard you this angry in decades! But I'd like you to stop dodgin' the bleedin' questions!" His words had once again fallen into his slang speech. "And I'll 'ave you know, I've been out searchin' every hour I could since she scarpered! As for the White hats.. well, The Whelp and Witches took one drive, then gave up. Rupes is convinced she just crashed at a friend's.. but that's a load of rot. 's the first two nights she's not been by the crypt.. crying or wanting to talk. Something' not right.." Angel was surprised to hear the amount of emotion that trembled in his child's normally collected voice.

"William, calm down. Dawn is safe, I assure you. She's upstairs resting right now - "

" - you mean she's in L.A.!?!"

"- We saved her from a gang of vampires. She must've come here on a bus, but I've no idea what she's doing here. Cordelia was sent a vision, and we saved her. She was pretty shook up.. rambling on about how the Scoobies hated her.. thought Buffy's death was her fault.." His anger had drained away at this point, leaving him hollow and tired. He sank into his chair, feeling weaker than any vampire should. "...and she kept telling me I should hate her.. should blame her. She.. she.."

"She's broken, mate. A shell of what we remember. Poor Bit's been through hell, Angel. Found out she was the Key, lost her mum, got sliced to bits by one of Glory's followers. To top it all off, big sis kills herself to save her. Then, Nibblet had to watch as the only family she had left was buried out in the middle of the damn woods so no one would know she's dead!"

"What happened to my soup!?" Wes' voice was high and whiny. Angel could not fight the small, though sad smile that appeared...

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** Author's Note: **Ok, if you review this, I wish for you to keep one thing in mind: This is the very first fanfic I ever wrote. It is over two years old, and I am simply typing the chapters up from my notebook, and posting them here. I hope everyone likes it! 


	2. Chapter 2

New Dawn Part 2!

Enjoy!!

Author's Note: I know that this chapter doesn't have much happening, but it will pick up next chapter.

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Angel grips the phone as if it is actually some deadly predator ready to dust him if he moves wrong… rather than an inanimate object that is not aware of his existence. He hated these things! And in this moment, knowing that his wayward chylde is on the other end, he finds himself missing the time before such contraptions ruled day to day affairs.

"Thank you, Spike…but it is time for me to hang up. I am tired of all of this… drama. Besides, I want to check on Dawn, make sure she is comfortable and settled in."

"Fine…whatever, Peaches. Just ask her to give me a ring, yeah? She knows I got Clem's cell. Now, listen, and listen good, Angel. That girl gets hurt… and no power of heaven, hell, or in between will keep me from dusting you." Angel pulls the phone from his ear, staring at the hunk of plastic and wiring… lost for words. Spike had threatened him before, sure, but this sounded… genuine. A shiver trips down his spine and without bothering to answer, he hangs up. After all, could he make a promise he only had a fifty percent chance of being able to keep? Though the phone sits in it's cradle, he does not exit the office. After all, this was the closest place to a sanctuary he had in this god forsaken world. So, for now, he sits hunched within his chair, his hands pressed to the weary planes of his face…

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Meanwhile, back in Sunnydale, Spike hangs the phone up, a million emotions warring for his attention. He leans forward, exhaling a heavy sigh, and cradling his head in his hands. // So… Nibblet chose the poof, then. I should… hell! I _**know**_ what I _**should**_ do, but I'm gonna go up there, anyways! I'll just… taker her some of her things… yeah, that's it. Bloody hell…//

"S-spike..? Wh-what did Angel have to s-say?" The sudden invasion of the stumbling words garners his attention, cerulean eyes snapping to focus upon Tara and Willow standing in the doorway. He stands briskly, features contorted into a scowl when he shoves past them, and steps into the main shop. Beyond the witches following him, no one seems to pay attention to his entrance. That simply wouldn't do… slowly, his eyes scan those gathered within the Magic Box, anger welling deep within him.

"Right then! She's in L.A… apparently, wants to stay a spell. And, seein' as it's summer and all, I reckon she's free to do just that. I'm gonna be headin' up later, to take her a few of her things. And there's no point in arguing', Rupes. Daw doesn't need to be here right now, and I doubt the Great Pouf would simply allow you to take the girl." Before anyone can address him, or argue in any way, he turns upon his heel and marches from the room. Of course, the real reason he leaves… is because of fear. He is afraid to look at Dawn's "friends," and see the complete lack of caring toward her well being. Now, this may or may not be an unfair thought on his end, but it is not a thought he can help. He fears for the girl's well being, both physical and mental. And mentally, this is not an environment she needs to be in. Sadly, a part of him is happy that she sought solace in L.A.

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Before she left, Angel managed to coax Cordelia into stopping by the hotel by noon the next day. In his mind, if any one of their group could break through the newly constructed barriers surrounding Dawn, the Ex-May Queen could. Of course, he she had made sure Angel offered a nice bribe, in return. For taking Dawn out, on the town, as it were, she would get the next two days off. (Of course, that was not allowing for Fate, or any visions that might occur.)

Now, however, as the early hours of morning darkness engulf the quiet hotel, he finds himself unable to sleep. The sun would begin rising in just few a hours, and he needed at least a modicum of sleep to function… but it would not come. It's near 5 am, and he sits wearily at his desk. The pale yellow glow of a desk lamp spills oceans of luminescence into the hall, his shoulders slumped as he loses himself in some ancient tome. That, in a few moments, would be his excuse for not realizing something was… off.

It is only after ten minutes of slowly losing concentration, of reading the same paragraph multiple times, that he looks up. Startled, his stoic façade slips for but a moment, brows creasing in awe as he sees Dawn curled within a chair across from him. Her legs are crossed Indian style within the confines of the chair, a sketch book open across her lap. A few stray strands of brown silk cling to her pursed lips and cheeks as she concentrates. After a moment, she shifts, hunching forward in such a way that her hair cascades in shimmering waves to obscure her features for a moment causing a mask of shadow and light. Even with the drawn stiffness of pan and sorrow, she was beautiful… large, brown doe eyes, thick, kissable lips… it takes him another few minutes to realize that he is staring.

"Couldn't sleep?" Even at a whisper, his voice echoes harshly within the office. When Dawn visibly jumps, then seems to wither within the chair, he frowns, suddenly miserable for the girl.

"S-s-sorry! No, I.. I couldn't sleep. I.. I'm sorry that I barged in. I didn't mean to ruin your concentration. I'll leave!" She unfurls her legs, stretching before her feet touch the ground, standing before the desk. When Angel realizes that the girl is preparing to flee, he is suddenly filled with desperation. He has the urge to keep the girl here… to keep some form of connection with her. (Now, the logical part of himself bitterly insists that his only concern for the girl… is the fact that she is his surviving link to the Slayer.)

"No!" Angel clears his throat, hiding his embarrassment at his outburst. "I mean, it's fine, you know. I can't sleep either… could use the company…" Yes, the lonely brood himself is asking for company. Were Dawn not so hollow, she would understand the irony in this. // I've missed this..// Angel's mind screams the thought. // I actually miss those night sin the Mansion… when we would sit, and Dawnie would draw or write. Hell, sometimes, she would just ramble on and on about her day. And miracle of miracles, I wanted to hear every last detail. I would smile for hours after she left…//

"Oh… well, if, like, you don't mind." She sits awkwardly after a moment, perching upon the edge of the seat, ready to flee if need be. She opens the sketch pad once more, her teeth capturing her bottom lip in an adorable gesture of nervousness. (Though what she had to be nervous about was beyond Angel. It was not as if he would bite or anything.) He clasps his book once more, holding the frail tome absently within his hands. When he realizes that she is casting furtive glances his way, before hunching back over her pad. This realization, of course, quashes any hope he holds of returning to his reading. He would blush, if he could. // She.. She's.. drawing me!? I.. I've never seen one of her drawings before…// He shifts within his seat, his stoic features softening as he thinks on the fact that he is being drawn.

"Are.. Are you drawing me?" He silently curses the slight shake of his voice as surprise betrays him. So much for sounding suave and unconcerned as usual. However, when Dawn gazes up at him through the ebony web of her lashes, a sheepish smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, he realizes that a little bit of emotion is worth it. // Of course, Dawn's always been like that… different.//

"Not at all, Angel. I'm drawing some mysterious, broodingly handsome vampire behind you." She speaks so casual and serious, despite the flush of her cheeks, that Angel almost finds himself turning around to glare at the intruder. When Dawn begins to giggle, the sound soft and musical like the gentle whisper of bells, Angel turns a mock glare upon her. (Though he is unable to maintain it.) By the time she manages to rein in her bubbling laughter, Angel is grinning like a fool.

"Well… I will make you a deal." He becomes serious as he speaks, and is surprised to see that he has her rapt attention. (Well, apart from the very large yawn she is trying desperately to stifle.) "I've never seen any of your sketches, and you've not seen mine. So, how about you do a portrait of me… and I will do one of you." His words cause a blush to trail Dawn's cheeks, and he swears silently to himself that he is not noticing just how kissable her red tainted cheeks are. She looks down, regarding her sketchbook silently, thick lashes fluttering innocently. He has never seen the girl so shy before… and he is painfully reminded of just how broken she has become.

"Mine are horrible! You… you wouldn't get a very fair trade, Angel…"

"I'm confidant in your ability, Dawnie. May I see one of them?" His voice is coaxing and gentle, not a tone often associated with him. And even though Dawn could take it as condescending, as Angel treating her like a kid in need of comfort, she doesn't. In fact, she kind of likes the tone. Angel has about given up hope, due to Dawnie's long pause, when the girl suddenly stands. And no, he is not watching her stretch her long legs, before making her way to his side of the desk with an almost ballet worthy grace. She casts a shy gaze about for a seat closer to him, causing Angel to hastily scoot his pile of books across the desk, freeing a space for her.

Dawn slides slowly up, onto the desk, crossing her long legs Indian style, her bottom lip once more captured by the worrying clasp of her teeth. Angel quickly stands and turns to shelve the pile of books, forcing himself to clear his overworked mind. Once he is through, he slips up, onto the desk next to her. Unconsciously, she leans her cheek gently onto his shoulder, eyes closing. She is hit with the earthy smell of him… his scent as cultivated as the rest of his appearance. She finds it comforting.

Angel slips an arm protectively around Dawn's torso, holding her close as he tries to think of something to say. He is struck by the scent of her. As a vampire, a person's scent is a unique signature. Dawn smelled not only of power, but of lavender body wash, and strawberry conditioner… the sweet taint of chocolate upon warm breath. After a moment of watching her from the corner of his eye, and basking in her intoxicating scent, he reluctantly removes his arm from her torso, and focuses on the sketchbook sitting within his lap.

To his complete surprise, and pleasure, he is the first one to appear upon paper. Dawn had used a charcoal pencil to draw him. The dark charcoal worked perfectly against the gritty paper to give his wild features a rugged edge. The shadows across the planes of his face capture the epitome of his Brood Mode. As wonderful and alluring as the portrait is, it is the eyes that draw his gaze. The detail is breathtaking! (Or at least, it would be if he had breath.) His eyes slant slightly at the ends, as if age has taken it's toll, yet not wuite made itself known. They are wild and feral… so dark, they almost shimmer black. He is sure that, at any moment, they will blink.

"Wow. I mean…wow.." He is speechless, each word forced past parted lips. And for once, his inability to speak is not of his own choosing. Slowly he turns his head, allowing his gaze to fall upon Dawn. The teen smiles lazily, half lidded eyes glistening with weary mirth. "I… I remember this. Exactly two days after you started your visits."


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3!**

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It was two days after Dawn found out he was back from Acathala's Hell Dimension. Angel had been meditating when she drew the picture. (So, it is a wonder he looks so alive, when he had felt so dead.) He still cannot believe that the girl had been… gutsy enough to enter the cold, dreary mansion and face him. Hell, Buffy had barely been able to do that. (And in his heart, it does not matter that this memory is as false as the rest of them.)

"So, you like……… it then?" There is a large break in Dawn's sentence as she fights a losing battle with another yawn. Angel grins in that rare, boyish way and nods. He doesn't trust his voice not to betray him when he speaks. But, speak he must. He could never keep Dawn waiting.

"Yeah, I do. You definitely have talent at drawing, Dawnie. I mean, I've had a couple of centuries to perfect it… and this is as good as mine." There is no envy in his voice, despite the fact that he is very competitive in nature. No, there is simple, unwavering awe and pride. He watches as she smiles lazy an brilliant, her eyes drooping with the heaviness of sleep. He knows she should be off to bed, but he refuses to part with her company yet. He is not what you would describe as selfish, but in this matter, he will not waver.

So, he continues to look through the sketchbook, even though he had only asked permission to see one. However, when she makes no move to stop him, he figures she has no problem with it. There were a few more of him, drawn all through out their secret time together, and a dozen of the Scoobies. There was one of a beautiful woman he had never met. She had long honey colored hair, and timid eyes that drew you in endlessly. (Tara, of course.) When he turns to the next page, it would be a vast understatement to say he is taken off guard. In fact, his eyes narrow and he emits a low growl that causes Dawn to scamper off the desk and take refuge in the chair she occupied earlier.

Angel is positively glaring at the page! It is a rendering of a very shirtless, deeply sleeping Spike. First off, Spike should _**never**_ look _**that**_ innocent! Secondly, Dawn had to have spent all day gazing down at Spike's sleeping form to have drawn such exquisite detail! Now, he knows that there is absolutely no reason for this to piss him off… and yet, it does! He feels a knot tighten deep in the pit of his stomach, and he quickly turns the page in hopes of escaping the onslaught of emotions. But the next page is just as bad! Five mini sketches of Spike litter the surface of the once pristine paper. Spike smiling, smirking… vamped out. And one, in the center of the page, is particularly alluring. Spike seems to… glow! Warm, fuzzy emotions buried deep within cerulean eyes that Angel absolutely refuses to name. No, there was absolutely no way that William the Bloody felt that way about Dawn Summers!

//Spike… and… and Dawn!? First, she calls me Spike, and now, these sketches? And Spike! He was so worried for her… _**nothing**_ worries Spike! He never even worried that much over Dru…// He turns to face Dawn, with every intention of discovering her relationship with his chylde. (Yes, Angel's chylde. I do not believe Dru sired Spike. After all, he calls Angel his Yoda!) However, that thought dissolves when he realizes Dawn is no longer beside him, but curled up asleep in the chair. He smiles, a private smile that lights his broody features, adds warmth to his cool façade. Once he places the sketchbook into his chair, he walks over and scoops her gently up, out of the chair. She murmurs appreciation, her arms slinging gently around his neck, her face burying softly against his bare chest. This is the moment in which his heart would skip a beat, if it could. When she murmurs a sleepy thank you, all jealousy melts away, leaving him smiling softly.

----------

Spike's DeSoto comes to an abrupt stop in front of the Hyperion, headlights burning angry yellow in the half darkness of the lit city. He shouldn't be here… he should be in Sunnydale, creating chaos and havoc and all of those other things Big Bad's do. But no.. he has to be here, prepared to create problems for Dawn and Angel. The car is packed full of things he has brought for Dawn, suitcases, dress bags, rucksacks, even her favorite chair. He loads his arms with bags, and makes his way toward the door of the hotel. Juggling the bags around, he reaches out to try the door handle, the soft, insistent rattle evidence that it is locked. So, he does what he does best. He begins to beat the door with the flat of his fist, cursing a blue streak. Angel had just gotten Dawn tucked in when the banging began. The girl sits bolt upright, a whimper escaping as her eyes dart frantically back and forth.

"Shh, it's alright, Dawn. I'm here. Stay put, and I'll check it out, ok?" He leans down and gives her a reassuring kiss… upon the forehead before heading downstairs. As the guttersnipe words rip through the silence of the night, he groans softly. Great, just great. //Spike to the rescue, hmm?// When Angel opens the door to see the Bleached Wonder laden with bags, he sighs softly. Since the Hyperian is technically a business, and Angel, being a vampire, cannot have claim to a home, Spike brushes past him, depositing the luggage he carries with infinite care in the middle of the lobby.

"What the hell are you doing here, Spike?"

"Hello to you too, Peaches. I came to make sure Dawn is alright, and I brought some of her stuff. Can't very well stay here if she doesn't have clothes and what not."

"That's sweet, Spike. Why don't you just leave it here, and head off. She's laying down right now." Angel's words are none too nice, his normal edge even sharper as he deals with his chylde. His arms cross over his broad chest, his eyes narrowed to intense slits. Spike gives an indignant sniffle, and a mock pout at Angel's words, prepared to toss out some snaky remark. However, the pout morphs into a look of feral rage when he sniffs the air again. Faded blue eyes, now flecked gold, narrow, and he begins to advance angrily on Angel.

"Alright, Angelus, explain in five words or less why the bleedin' hell you smell like the Nibblet." He snarls the words savagely, anger causing his form to shake. He had finally gotten someone that Angel had not had first.. Someone that cared about him. The thought of her with Angel makes his mind burn bright with anger.

"Tucked. Her. Into. Bed… idiot!" Angel explains calmly, choosing to leave out the part where he had Dawn cradled to his chest as he carried her upstairs. He makes no move to advance threateningly toward Spike, or to back off. Nor does he shift to game face or go on the defensive. He merely tenses a bit, waiting. After all, if Spike meant as much to Dawn as he fears, then he would not hurt him… yet. "She fell asleep in my office while we were talking. I carried her up to her room, and she was finally sleeping good when you interrupted…" Spike suddenly launches himself at Angel, violent intent rather obvious.

"S-spike?! No!" Dawn descends the last two stairs, thrusting herself between Angel and Spike as quickly as she can, frantic in her need to protect the elder Vampire. (Not that she could explain that need, mind you.) Even with supernatural speed, Spike's momentum is too great, the punch already flying. And there is Dawn, standing between them… looking up at Spike with wide, Doe eyes. He screams, loud and shrill with the pain of what is about to happen. Not only the chip going off, but the pain and fear of hurting his Nibblet. He feels every muscle in his arm contort to try and stop the inevitable with no luck.

And then, a miracle happens. Dawn is shoved to the side, out of the way, by Angel and Spike's punch connects square with his jaw. The elder vampire reels backward, hitting the wall with a back cracking force, and grunting in anger as he slides to the ground, momentarily dazed. Spike has never punched him that hard before…. Dawn is by his side in mere moments, kneeling to make sure he is ok. And yeah, so, she knows that a punch from Spike will not seriously hurt Angel, but she still worries.

"A-are you ok?" She manages to stammer forth, tears staining her blue green eyes as she kneels next to him. She cannot explain it, but the fear of losing Angel is tangible and real… nearly suffocating her! Angel looks up, into her tear filled eyes, and offers her a reassuring smile. Or, at least, what tends to pass for a smile with him.

"I'm fine, Dawn. We just had… a little misunderstanding, that's all. Are you alright? Why did you come down?" Her head is once more bowed, as it always seems to be as of late. She sniffles softly before launching herself into Angel's arms. The older vampire's eyes widen slightly, even as his arms instinctively surround the girl… pulling her tight to his chest. His embrace spoke of protection and love, and even as she trembles, sobbing in his arms, she is comforted by the lack of heartbeat, and the cool temperature of his skin. Meanwhile, her salty tears burn hot paths down his form, causing him to shiver slightly beneath her as he cradles her in his lap.

When Angel manages to glance upward, he is struck momentarily askew by what he sees. Spike looks longingly down at Dawn, his arms half open as if he aches to hold the girl, and comfort her… as if his arms remember an action no longer afforded him. Spike is unable to hide the pain welling within his faded denim colored eyes when Dawn finally speaks.

Why are you here, Spike? You made everything pretty damn clear! What… want to add a little more salt to the wound!? Why don't… you… leave! Just… _**leave**_!" Her voice echoes shrill, angry pain as she stares at him, tears still glistening upon alabaster skin. She pulls against Angel's protective embrace, and he reluctantly lets her go. With a grace that would almost make Buffy blush, she takes to her feet, staring at the vampire that had once been her best friend. (How pathetic is that?) She is running up the stairs, for her room, before Spike even has a chance for the words to sink in. When they finally do, he finds his access to the stairs blocked by his Sire, who stands at the ready, should Spike try to get through. Dawn ad foolishly tried to protect him… no way was he about to betray the loyalty she had shown him, no matter how much it secretly hurts him to see Spike suffer so.

"Ain't gonna happen, Spike. She is obviously not in the mood to talk tonight. So, run along, Spikey. Thanks for bringing her things, just… leave 'em downstairs… it's a long drive to Sunnydale, and the sun will be up soon…" And, in a softer, gentler voice, he adds… "Sorry, Spike." He waits, tense, for the blond to strike him again. But, all fight seems to fade from beautiful blue eyes, and instead, Spike slumps, nodding silently as he turns upon his heel to continue what he came for… playing delivery boy.

----------

Once Spike is gone, and the hotel is locked up once more, Angel tries to decide what his next move should be. After a long moment, he remembers something, and a true smile lights his features momentarily. (Of course it would happen no one was around to witness it.) He makes his way to the small, restored kitchen, and begins to run water through the coffee pot, searching the small cupboards frantically. With a sigh of stale, useless breath, he begins to work. As the water warms, he runs back out to the lobby.

After he gathers an arm full of luggage, he makes his way up the stairs toward the room across from his own. When he gets to her room and sees the door open, he enters and places the bags by her closet… casting a wayward glance in her general direction. She has once again taken her bedding, and created a comfortable bed upon the window seat. She is stretched out there, staring endlessly into the artificial light of the city.

When she makes no move to acknowledge his presence within her room, he simply slips out, keeping his disappointment secret for now. However, he is back in a manner of minutes, a steaming mug of cocoa clutched within his hand, the heat pouring from it a strange comfort as he watches her silently for a moment. Finally, her vacant, haunted gaze angles toward him. There are no tears this time, merely a lingering sadness that seems to drown her once vibrant eyes. His silent heart sighs for the lost innocence he once could've loved. She reaches silently forth to take the mug, her knees drawing to her chest that he may sit where her feet had once been. He hesitates for a moment, then takes the offered spot… forcing himself not to purrr at the warmth of it.

"Sorry, Angel. For.. Acing like such a kid down there.." She speaks more into the swirling depths of marshmallow-y chocolate than to him. He turns, after a moment, craning his neck to gaze out, over the city.

"It's ok… Spike probably had it coming. I moved all of your stuff in here, so you can go through it after you get some sleep. I'll call Cordy, and tell her lunch is off for tomorrow."

"N-no! That's ok, I'd really like to go to lunch tomorrow… you know, that way I won't be in your way or anything. You can sleep or whatever." If she weren't practically begging for this small moment of normality in her life, he would've vehemently denied her going. But, a sit is, he merely sighs, and turns to level that intense stare at her. He nods, and stands slowly, still looking down at her, deep in thought.

" Alright, Dawn, get some sleep. When Cordelia gets her, tell her there's a note on her desk. G'night… and sweet dreams."


	4. Chapter 4

Dawn is showered and ready by the time Cordelia arrives. Dawn stands in the middle of the lobby, fingers twitching across the material of her backpack purse, eyes lingering on the floor as if it is the most interesting thing in the world. Cordelia plasters a bright and happy smile as fake as most women in L.A. as she enters the room.

"Afternoon, Dawnie! You ready to go to lunch? Do a little shopping?" Apparently, Dawn hadn't noticed the quirky woman enter, because she visibly jumps, then cringes away from her. Dawn tries her best to offer an enthusiastic smile, but she is not quite the actor Cordy is.

"Angel said he left a note for you on your desk." As Dawn fidgets with her rucksack, shifting it's position, her shirt lifts suddenly, revealing small cuts to either side of her stomach that are still struggling to heal. Cordelia turns quickly… so fast, in fact, that her steps falter for a single moment, before she finds refuge at her desk. She has heard that kind of tone… the one Dawn currently carries. It speaks of angst, pills, and pointy objects… and not in a dusting vampires kind of way. She shudders, despite herself, and begins to pick through the things on her desk, finding an envelope.

When she turns the envelope upside down to watch the contents tumble down, across her desk, her eyes widen in surprise. The first item to fall free is a heavy set of car keys… followed by a credit card… and finally, a piece of paper. She grabs the paper first, hungrily reading Angel's perfect penmanship.

'_**Cordy, take a deep breath and stop gawking. Yes, I'm letting you drive my car. And yes, I am lending you my credit card. But first, a few ground rules: You drive that car at a responsible speed! Dawnie's been through a lot, and the last thing she needs is you careening her across L.A. at death inducing speeds! Second, don't go insane with the credit card, but make sure Dawnie gets a some nice things… anything that catches her eye, and you can talk her into. And be careful. She didn't sleep too well last night… she had.. A slight problem. See you later.' **_

Cordelia's mouth snaps shut when she reads the line about gawking. As she continues to read, she begins to pout… perplexed and a little irked at the fact that Angel was giving up all of his prized possessions for the girl. Not to mention the way he 'spoke' to her in the note. And here he is, pulling out all of the stops for Dawnie, when he wouldn't even _**consider**_ giving her a raise! Unfortunately, her thoughts are somewhat voiced before she can stop herself.

"Wow, he's really giving you the royal treatment, Dawnie." Dawn shrinks back at Cordelia's words. She doesn't mind Angel or Tara calling her Dawnie, because it comes out affectionate and sweet. But, like when Buffy or the Scoobies say it, Cordelia's version makes Dawn feel like some insignificant little kid…. Dawn, who is the key, and older than them all.

"Where are we going to eat? I… I'm really hungry.." Dawn begins to take slow steps toward the door, the action catching Cordelia's attention. Once more, the actress plasters on her Hollywood smile, and shoves the credit card into her purse.

"Oh, well, that's up to you, Dawn. Italian, or seafood?"

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The sleek, black convertible wheels haphazardly into a parking space before the fanciful, casual restaurant. When Dawn steps out of the vehicle, fingers trailing through the wind tousled strands of her hair, hoping to add a bit of order to chaos, she hears whistles and catcalls to her left. She turns to look, seeing two men making rather… lewd comments. Her cheeks flush red with blood and anger. One does not come from the blood of two Slayers, one evil, and befriend half the Scourge of Europe, without picking up a few things. Namely, a bad ass temper. It is only when Cordelia suddenly steps in front of her, hands on her hips, that she realizes what she was about to do.

"Oh puh-lease! Like she is really gonna waste her time on minimum wage losers like you!" Before either men, or Dawn for that matter, can react, Cordelia has her arm, and is leading her inside. The teen is quiet and rather rigid as they are shown to a table.

"What can I get you to drink?" The waiter, David, addresses Cordelia, even though his gaze rests silently on Dawn's down turned features. She bites her bottom lip in concentration, and for some reason, he finds it fascinating.

"I think… I'll have a Sunset Passion Colada." Her words are spoken like a veteran of the restaurant world.. Showing only minimum interest, while searching for something to eat.

"And for you, ma'am?" He addresses Dawn softly, offering the most dazzling smile he can manage, and that is saying a lot. He is 19 years old, and should be modeling, not waiting. He is 6'1, with a muscular, well built form, and arms that could hold the whole world at bay. He has immaculate hair like a certain vampire, and faded denim eyes like another. When she doesn't answer, he leans toward her and admonishes softly.. "Miss? Can I get you something to drink?" After a moment, Dawn shakes her head slightly, a sheepish smile bringing fake life to her beautiful features, and stealing David's breath for a moment.

"Oh, my bad.. Can I get a strawberry banana fudge smoothie, please?"

"Sure!" That single word drips with so much enthusiasm, that Cordelia almost snickers… in fact, she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the sound from escaping. He hesitates for a moment, then scampers off toward the kitchen, a new bounce of idiotic proportion in his step.

"He was so checking you out! Way to go, Dawnie!" Cordy grins cheerfully, closing her menu, and watching the girl silently for some sort of reaction.

"What? Oh, no way, he so totally was not. I mean, me? Yeah, right." All of Cordy's ire from earlier that afternoon drains at the sound of the girl's self-deprecating tone. In fact, a frown begins to tug upon the corners of her mouth, her head positively spinning with the defeat that seems to pour off the girl in stifling waves. What had happened to the once cheerful brat that had hurled insults at her at school?

"And just what exactly is that supposed to mean, young lady?" Cordelia's snappish tone catches Dawn off guard. And, before she can answer, David arrives to take their orders. Once it has been placed, Dawn decides to test her friend's theory. She holds the menu out to the boy, allowing her most beautiful, glowing smile to emerge as she looks up through the savage tangle of sooty lashes, to regard him with playful sweetness.

"Thanks, David.." The boy intakes a sharp, silent breath, his hand almost trembling as he reaches for the menu. This time, there is no hesitation when he takes off for the kitchen, desperate to be out of there before he embarrasses himself somehow.

"See! I told you, Dawnie! You have that poor boy totally flustered…" Cordelia almost coos her approval at Dawn's playful manner toward the boy. And yet, the teen looks less than thrilled with this discovery. So much so, that she does not talk as they wait for the food to arrive… as they eat… or even as they wait for the check. She seems withered and trapped within herself, hardly listening to Cordelia's rambling efforts to fill the stifling silence. Finally, when the check seems to take an ungodly amount of time arriving, Dawn speaks, soft and blank.

"So… where are we going after lunch? Window shopping sounds all good and well, but I have no money to buy anything. It took everything I had just to get to L.A." Where I'm not wanted… she finishes the thought in her own mind, trying to remain stoic as she watches the older woman.

"Oh, Angel was very specific about that in his note. If you find something you want, get it, no matter what." Before Dawn can reply to this, wide eyed and unbelieving, David appears with the check. He grins shy and sweet at Dawn… but when the teen doesn't respond, he snaps the bill to the table with an audible clatter and stalks off. Cordelia lifts a brow, shaking her head.

"Wow… schitzo much?" Cordelia looks the bill over, before slipping the Credit Card into it. David returns to gather it, then once she has signed the slip, walks off again. As the girls near the door, he appears in a rather flustered state, smiling shyly.

"May I… I mean, could I.. maybe I could.."

"555-6444. Ask for Dawn." Cordelia supplies, before dragging the girl out, so that she doesn't have time to protest. The drive to the mall is spent with the two of them deep in conversation, laughing and having a seemingly good time. They discuss everything from Cordelia's acting career and the detective agency, to her and Angel's friends. Cordy explains who Gunn is, and Dawn apologizes profusely for attacking him the night before. She tells her about a girl, named Fred, who they don't often see. Also, she tells Dawn about Lorne, who lives in a club.

"So Lorne _**actually**_ made Angel sing _**Mandy**_!? Oh God, he must've lost so many customers!" At which point, they fall into laughter once more, both shuddering at the idea of Angel singing anything, let alone Mandy. I mean, come on, Angel's a VAMPIRE! Mandy!?

----------

It's close to 7:30 before they pull up to the Hyperian once more, Cordelia parking the car as carefully as she can. After all, if she demonstrates good behavior with the precious object, Angel may let her take it out again. (And maybe vampires would learn to walk in daylight without the Gem of Amara.) In the darkness, Dawn marvels at the ancient decay of the place… and is suddenly struck with a strong desire to draw the hotel. After she has successfully gotten all of her bags in hand, she waddles to the front door. She is just rearranging her things to try and open the door when it is suddenly yanked open, a very irate Angel and Wesley staring her down. She smiles sheepishly and they both calm at seeing her safe and sound. They also immediately move to take hold of her bags, leaving her free to walk into the hotel herself.

"Oh, don't worry about me… I'm just fine!" Cordelia sulks, struggling with the heavy bags. Gunn appears, grinning slightly as he takes her things, and ushers her into the hotel good naturedly. The boys deposit all of the bags on the round seat, and Dawn wanders over to search through them. She grabs a couple of take out bags, and turns to face the still glaring Angel and Wes.

"I know, I know. We're late, you were worried, and our fingers are not broken, so we could've called. But, we were having so much fun, that it simply slipped our minds! We got caught up listening to Mandy…" At which point she levels a knowing smirk at Angel… who's eyes widen slightly. He quickly retreats, taking a few protective steps back from the teen, with his hands before him in surrender. "We weren't sure if you guys had eaten yet, so we brought take out. I know Spike likes to eat regular food sometimes, but I wasn't sure if you did…" At the mention of Spike, the girl seems to shut down just slightly. "Oh, and I'll find a way to pay you back for all of this, Angel. I'll send money when I get back.. To.. Sunnydale.." She trails off slowly, and turns to take the food to the makeshift kitchen, where a table sits. Wes props the door open after they all head in, the small table quickly cleared.

"First off, you're more than welcome to stay the Summer, Dawn. We could use the company…" This statement is greeted with affirmations that make Dawn smile real and beautiful for the first time since arriving. "Second, you don't owe me anything. Consider this an early birthday present. And no, I don't eat often… but food sounds good right about now, Dawn."

"Then let's chow, cause I'm hungry! So, what'd you get, Half-pint?" Gunn asks, offering the girl a ghost of a smile. After all, just yesterday, she did scratch the tar out of him in a fit of hysterics. Dawn begins to unpack the bags, as Angel opens boxes. "Chinese food, huh? Well, it'll do."

"Japanese and Chinese." Dawn, Angel, and Wes all correct at the same time. Dawn grabs a box of octopus Karaage, a container of sweet and sour, some Sobe noodles, and a square box, and moves to the table. Gunn watches in half lit interest, everyone fixing their plates and moving to the table. Gunn and Angel end up squashed up against Dawn at the small table, Wes on the other side of Angel, and Cordy on the other side of Gunn. Everyone, including Cordelia gawks at the amount of food piled atop Dawn's plate as she begins to open the square box.

"Erm… what the hell is that?" Gunn exclaims, and Dawn giggles softly. She holds up a potsticker with a chopstick.

"This is Gyoza, a pork and vegetable stuffed dumpling. And this.." She indicates the large pancake/pizza like thing in the large box. "…is Okonomiyaki!" She speaks the word with more confidence than she feels.

"Oki-wati, you little weirdo?" Cordelia demands, shaking her head. She could smell lobster and shrimp… but the thing looked scary to her.

"Japanese pizza." Dawn, Angel, and Wes once more intone, as all three grab a slice. When Cordelia and Gunn level them with 'yeah right' looks, Wes sighs, and puts his slice down. He shifts his glasses back up his nose a bit.

"To be more precise, it is a bit like a pancake, with meat, vegetables, and Worcestershire sauce or mayonnaise. I'd say this one has Worcestershire sauce." He then takes up his piece, and eats happily. The group tuck into their meal, everyone eating and laughing in such ease, that Dawn is momentarily allowed to forget the fact that she is not truly human, and not running from the fact that she got her sister killed in order to save her life. As Dawn is preparing to go back for yet more food, the phone begins to call shrilly from the other room.

"Ohh… please let that be a client that can pay!" Cordelia whines a begging prayer before disappearing into the other room. Dawn suddenly feels unsettled, and begins to play with her empty plate, suddenly completely without an appetite. Her fears are confirmed when Cordelia comes marching back into the kitchen, a smug smile plastered on. "Dawnie.." She sing songs, causing Dawn to immediately, and complete despise the nickname. "David is on the phone for you, honey. Run along." Dawn scowls, and stands stiffly, marching into the other room.

As Dawn makes for the phone, Angel conveniently decides he wants a little more food, and stands to make his way toward the small take out boxes. Of course, it is completely coincidental that this places him within hearing range of Dawn's end of the conversation.

"Hello? Yeah, hi, David. Course I remember. Cordelia? Yeah, she's the one I was at lunch with. Huh? Motto? Oh, yeah, it's really spiffy. Yeah, I really stay here. No, I don't live in L.A, I live in Sunnydale. I'm just spending some time here, visiting my friend Angel. No, Angel is a _he_, and yes, _he_ owns the detective agency. Huh? F-Friday? I.. I don't know… I'll have to check. Yeah, talk to you tomorrow.. Bye.." SHe finds herself blushing and trembling slightly when she hangs the phone up.

Angel is surprised by the questioning, uneasy look on everyone's faces when he looks up from the empty plate he had forgotten to fill. You know, alibi and all.

"What?" He mutters, irritated by the fact that they are staring at him.

"Um.. Angel? You're all… bumpy.." Cordelia speaks softly, not sure what to make of her friend's odd behavior lately. First, the car and credit card, now full Vamp mode over a phone call? She finds herself surprisingly curious as to what was said on Dawnie's end of the line, to send Angel into such a state. Wide-eyed, Angel lifts a hand to touch his ridged forehead, forcing himself back to his human face with a tremble. Without saying anything, as Dawn enters the kitchen, he brushes past her and stalks off to his office. Dawn, equally silent, throws her trash away, and exit's the kitchen, making her way toward her room.

"Ok… maybe I missed something? But… did they both just brood on outta here?" Gunn questions, trying not to sound irked at being dismissed like that.

"This is none of our business. I think it best if we just… leave." Wes declares, helping his friends finish cleaning, before heading out of the hotel for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own them!

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

It had been four days of a life that could, up to this point, be considered far more stable than the life she had been suddenly created into in the midst of the Scoobies and Sunnyhell. Cordelia, Wes, and Gunn had made the effort, without actually -seeming- to do anything, to integrate Dawn into their day to day life around the Hyperion, and she was rather quite grateful for that fact. Since David's call, Angel and Dawn had been on the outs, barely speaking, and Dawn did not really like that fact ... but, Summers' stubbornness kept her from reaching out to the vampire to make amends. Anyway, since they weren't speaking, it would be fair to say that she was more than a little surprised when the sudden, overpoweringly loud knocking that wakes her from her sleep turns out to be the fanged brood himself when she yanks the door open to regard him with a sleep heavy, glaring gaze.

**"Sorry to wake you, Dawn, but .. your .. friend David is on the phone. Again. He's been calling nonstop -all- morning and we're trying to concentrate ..." **It was obvious that the vampire had been steadily losing concentration through the sentence he was trying to get out, but with little warning, he just trails off, his eyes narrowing for a moment before widening to near saucer-like proportions. He turns his back with a sudden fervent swiftness that Dawn feels as if the backlash of the movement might knock her right onto her arse! And before she can even make a peep of indignation, he is already hurrying away.** "When you're - ready-, you know where the phone is ..." **As his words once more fade away, and she watches him taking the stairs in multiples, as if trying to put as much distance as possible between them, as fast as possible, Dawn finds herself .. well, -miffed-. With a sigh, she pushes the door to, muttering beneath her breath about strange vampires, brooding, and some other choice things that were a little less than polite.

Angel's retreat had slowed considerably once he was out of eye-line of the doorway, waiting quietly, almost stopping his descent into the lobby of the Hyperion completely as he waited for that moment of satisfaction when Dawn realized what had happened. And in the end, he is reward -remarkably-! The squeal of embarrassed surprise and mortification would be heard by him and him alone, the sound producing an uncharacteristically smug smirk upon his handsome features as he continues to descend the stairs. Dawn continues to just stare down at herself, realizing why Angel had about faced and left quickly .. he had caught an 'eye full' of her in her 'night clothes'. The outfit consisted of black bikini panties and a strapless red tank top. Yes .. she had taken to wearing red and black like a certain vampire she had idolized for a while.

With an exasperated sigh, she begins to go through the clothing Cordelia had talked her in to buying during their shopping spree. And while she was aware of the fact that it meant David was waiting on the phone while she was taking the necessary steps to get cleaned up .. she -really- didn't give a damn! Let the annoying boy wait for all she cared! Hell, had it not been for Cordelia interfering, as per usual, Dawn never would've bothered with the guy, so why should she have to bother with him now? After crimping her hair into glossy, faint waves that framed her features, applying eyeliner and eyeshadow that complimented her eye color, she began to dress. A pair of tight black hip huggers are the first thing she pulls on, feeling the denim conform to her slender, curved waist, leaving her belly exposed. With a wickedly little grin, something she had picked up from hanging around Captain Peroxide too long, she threads a thin linked gold belly chain with a sapphire tear drop hanging down her stomach. She then pulls on a strapless bra and a strapless black tank top that conformed like a second skin. IF Angel had walked away seeing her in her night clothes, maybe this would assure he stayed the hell away from her. To finish it all off, she pulls on the sapphire tear drop choker that matches the belly chain, socks, and her pair of black platform boots. With a glance in the mirror, she decided that she had entered into the realm of superfluous as far as taking her time and making David wait, so she turns and makes her way out of her room and down the stairs.

When Dawn comes swaggering into the room to answer the phone, the meager conversation comes to an instant, screeching halt, and the reactions were palpable. Cordelia, sitting idly on a small chair, was smirking with a sense of self-satisfaction for having made Dawn buy the more daring, mature clothing, as well as beaming with a certain sense of pride in the youngest Summers for having the audacity to wear such a thing. Gunn, who had picked up a thick, dusty book about five seconds before Dawn entered, feels it sliding through his lax fingers, hitting the hard floor with an almost deafening thud that actually has him jumping a little in his seat, though he would deny that vehemently were it pointed out. Wesley, he didn't even have enough wits left about him to be angry at the fact that one of his beloved books had just been mistreated so blatantly! No, he was too torn as to which course of action he should take: Close his gawking mouth, or pull his glasses form his face, and in the proper English Gentleman display, pretend to clean them vehemently!

And Angel .. well, Angel was fidgeting in his seat in an almost childish display of discomfort, while simultaneously holding an open book as close to his face as he could, trying to keep his eyes form seeking the vision of beauty that was currently standing across the room, seemingly oblivious to the reaction she was garnering from the others in the room. Though, much like Wesley, Angel is rather torn as well, though in a -very- different way. His enhanced sense of smell was reeling from the spicy scent of Dawn's Tabu perfume .. while his supernatural hearing was straining to overcome the focus of her perfume to try and listen in on her side of the conversation!

**"Hey, David. Oh, I'm doing great! Yeah, sorry I haven't been around lately. Things are, like, uber crazy around here! Yeah, I've been thinking about that .. huh? 6:00?"** Dawn shifts her footing, redistributing her weight from one foot to the other as she swings around to gaze at those gathered at the large desk, books piled high between them, taking up almost every surface of the large structure. It reminds her of a Scoobie Meeting, and that hurts, for some reason. Gunn and Wes immediately bury their noses into their books, looking nothing short of embarrassed, and yet, unrepentant despite the fact that they are both blushing. Of course, Angel had heard David asking if 6:00 would be a good time to pick her up, so it seemed only -natural- that he should -feel- Dawnie's gaze upon him. He takes an unneeded, stale breath, trying to steel himself against what he might see when his gaze finally crests the top of the book to take her in. Apparently, he hadn't prepared himself well enough! He nearly flinches at what he sees pooled in those large, round doe eyes .. nothing .. utter vacancy of emotion.

**"Sure! 6:00 would be perfect. See you then, David."** She hangs the phone up hastily, her free hand tucking a few strands of her crimped hair behind her pale ear to stop them from tickling her cheek.

**"So, got a hot date, Dawnie? When? And where's he taking you! You know, I could be - persuaded- to offer my expert opinion on what to wear to impress him!"** Cordelia gushes happily at the prospect of Dawn going on a date, almost as much as if Dawn had been her own child, about to go out on her first date, and that really pissed Dawn off. She -had- a Mother, and she was gone! She would never get to take pictures of Dawn in a Prom dress, or watch as she got nervous and emotional the first time she was stood up .. her Mother would -never- be there for those milestones, and the last thing Dawn needed was to be reminded of that.

**/ **_**Presume much?**_** /** Dawn and Angel have that thought simultaneously, and neither of them can explain the strange chill that accompanied the thought, or why it drew their gazes sharply to one another. And without looking away, angel is the first to speak.

**"I'm sure Dawn can figure out what to wear on her ... date .. Cordy. But, there -will- be rules, Dawn. Number one, curfew. 11:00, not a -minute- later."**

**"And I'm sure there shall be a -proper- introduction to this lad, apart from the dozen or so times he's called, before you even -consider- leaving here with him!" **Wes speaks sternly, the authority in his voice taking -everyone- by surprise, accompanied by a -no nonsense- look toward the teen.

**"For real! 'Cause no just anyone's gonna walk up in here off the street and take you out before we make sure he's good enough for you, half-pint."** Gunn interjects his two cents, arms crossed in front of himself in a protective 'big brother' stance.

**"And there is no way you're going to wear something -that- revealing, Dawnie. There is no reason to be making with the encouragement of gropage, even if he is cute."** And of course, Cordelia would round out the guardian tirade. Every time the Scoobies got protective, Dawn resented them for it .. because she knew that they were only doing it because of who her sister was. But when these four express their protectiveness, it makes her feel special and accepted for being herself, and not the dorky little sister of the great Slayer.

**"Man! You guys are -so- raining on my Parade!"** She flops into the chair between Wes and Gunn as she makes this exclamation, playfully 'sulking' as she settles, looking the books over. **"Sooo .. whatcha reasearchin?"**

**"A demon that Cordelia glimpsed in a vision."** Wes replies with an obvious tone of distaste in his voice as he settles and begins to study the photograph he had been looking at before he joined the discussion of Dawn's impending date.

**"It ia a lot like a mucus demon, except it is bright pink, has six arms, and smells like Sulfur!" **Cordelia whinges softly, the memory of the demon all too vivid even now.

**"Oh! You mean a Corvicus demon .. they are sooo -gross-!" **Damn shudders involuntarily as she makes this simple, straight forward observation. Four pairs of eyes widen, surprised gazes snapping to the teenager as she wiggles in her chair, though she didn't seem to realize it, continuing**. "They drink virgin blood, which is all kinds of -yuck-. Oh, and their claws contain a very potent venom that is very toxic to Vampires, Leecrus, and other blood feeding creatures."** While Angel, Cordy, and Gunn continue to gawk in stunned silence, Wes grabs a particularly thick volume up, nearly dislodging an entire pile of books and sending them over the side of the table. **"What? I'm not a total moron, you know!"** She pouts softly as she says this, having noticed the surprised looks.

**"She's absolutely right .. I mean, about the form of Demon we are facing. I.. I should've remembered. To kill the beast, we will need a Morpheus Scythe, but those are -very- hard to come by."**

**"Oh! I think I have one of those!"** Like a young boy ready to show off a new toy, Angel jumps from his seat and practically prances over to his weapons cabinet, searching for it. Wes turns to look at Gunn, frowning.

**"The venom in it's claws are -very dangerous to vampires, fatal, even. So, if Angel -is- injured, you will need to get a substantial amount of it's blood, Gunn. So, please, take an appropriate container. I think there are some Tupperware containers by Cordelia's desk."** Wes takes hold of the book once more, standing form his spot as Cordelia moves to her desk to grab the container for Gunn before they head out with Angel. Dawn watches Wes for a long moment, trying to overcome the sudden wave of timidness that overtakes her.

**"Mr. Wesley? W-would it .. be ok .. if I helped? I mean, I used to help Tara with things all the time, and, well .. I just hate being here, and not being able to help. Everyone has been so nice to me, when they didn't have to, and I feel so useless!"** Wes' eyes widen slightly, and he tries so hard not to frown, but it peeks through, darkening his features.

**"Please, Wesley, or just Wes, if you would. And that's just nonsense, Dawn! If it weren't for you, we would still be struggling to identify the thing, and there is no telling how long it would have continued to hurt innocent people. In fact, I would greatly appreciate the help. Shall we?"** When Wes holds his hand out to Dawn, she smiles brightly, realizing that he actually -means- it. When Giles would allow her to help, it was a sort of .. reluctant thing, only letting her help because it would keep her distracted so that Buffy had one less thing to worry about.

* * *

**"Alright, take the dried Tamute root and ground it to as fine a powder as you can manage." **Wes instructs as he adds a few ingredients to the bubbling cauldron as Dawn gathers the mortar and pestle, placing the dried, yam-like root into it and begins to grind it. **"Once it is thin and grainy, much like course salt, add the mistletoe leaves and yarrow flower and grind them altogether."** Dawn nods and adds the yarrow, then plucks the leaves from the mistletoe sprig, before sliding the sprig behind her ear with the fat white berries intact.

**"Wes .. do you like working with Angel better than you liked being Buffy's Watcher?"** Now, normally, with Buffy being newly deceased, Wes would probably lie through his teeth to make peace, so to speak .. but there was something about Dawn that made him want to tell the truth. She inspired everyone in the Hyperion to just .. be themselves.

**"Yes, I do, Dawn. I was never cut out to be a Watcher, I merely did it to try and make my Father proud of me. But here .. I am able to help so much more, on a more personal level."**

**"Everything seems so much better here than in Sunnydale. The Scoobies .. they never accepted me .. not really. I was just like you .. or Faith .. or Angel, to them ... something to be -tolerated- because I had some vague connection to Buffy. Even before they knew found out I was the 'Key,' they treated me as if I wasn't real! But, you guys are different! You .. accept me .. let me help, and at least -pretend- that I matter, instead of just tolerating me."** She adds the powdered mixture to the cauldron, trying not to frown, but it was so hard to do. When she looks back up from what she is doing, Wes is wearing a full on pissed expression and she shrinks away from it.

**"Now see here, young lady! There shall be no talk of -tolerating- or -pretending-! We do not think of you in such terms, and I'll not hear of you thinking of yourself in such a fashion, either. And bugger the Scoobies if they think of you in such a way! It is -very- foolish on their part. We genuinely enjoy your company, Dawn, and I can honestly say we're better for having had you here! And furthermore, I am rather confident I shall not be the only miserable, moping one about the Hyperion when it comes time for the eejits to begin demanding you come home at the conclusion of the summer. Now, no more talk of such things. Hmm .. Essence of the Innocent? Now what could that possibly mean?"** Wes frets softly over the last words, frowning, turning to move back into the other room to look through his books. Dawn, meanwhile, can't help but smile at the warm fuzzies his little speech causes.

However, when she hears the last bit, about _**"Essence of the Innocent,"**_ a sickening feeling settles in the pit of her stomach. Pain flares on her sides where the healing cuts from earlier that summer reside, and she sees herself bound and bleeding as doc sang 'shallow cuts' in that horrible, sing-song voice. And yet, despite her vast, almost crippling fear, she knows that she is the only 'innocent' amongst them. And if Angel -did- get infected ... she was willing to bleed to save him. so, she grabs the athame sitting next to the cauldron and holds her right arm up, over the vessel. She could still remember all too well the pain she had felt when she had sliced her arm to bits shortly after finding out she was the key.

**"Dawn! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!"** He was too late, of course .. everyone was -always- too late to keep Dawn from being hurt. Thick streams of blood flow sluggishly down her arm and into the concoction, even as he was scrambling to find a first aid kit. When she begins to feel dizzy, Was forces her to sit as he begins to bandage her.

**"Blood of the Innocent, Wes .. No one else here could do it .. anyway .. they're here."** She turns, pulling away from him as soon as the bandage is secured, running into the lobby to check on the others. Gunn and Cordelia enter first, strained laughter following in their wake, with Angel trailing a bit behind. She can't help herself, she runs up to Angel, wanting to make sure that he's ok. He tries to give her a reassuring smile, but it was all .. wrong. His mouth drooped a little, his eyes looked glassy and unfocused .. and just as he opens his mouth to say something, he pitches forward, right into Dawn's arms. She struggles to support him, whimpering in surprise and concern, her eyes wide with worry. However, before she has time to actually realize that Angel is dragging her toward the floor Gunn is suddenly there, pulling the vampire out of her arms, so that the two of them can guide him toward the couch in Angel's office. As they settle him, Wes comes charging into the room with the antidote in hand, passing it to Dawn. She tries, twice, to pour it into his mouth, but it was too hard, she was shaking too much, too clumsy.

So, she does the only thing she can think of .. much to -everyone's- surprise. She takes a large swig of the nasty stuff, letting the liquid pool in her mouth .. she then leans forward and presses her lips tightly to Angel's. Her tongue pries his lips apart and she leans forward, letting the liquid slide into his mouth, her fingers gently caressing along the curve of his throat to force him to swallow it. After a long moment, getting as much of it into him as she could, she pulls back and tilts her head to whisper into his ear.

**"P-Please be ok, Angel. Please. I .. I need you to be ok. I .. I think I .. love you."** She hoped no one but Angel would hear those words.

* * *

It had been an hour since Dawn had force-fed Angel the antidote and he lay unmoving on the couch and they all feared the worst ... after all, it's not like they had a pulse or breath to check for! Dawn had pulled a chair up beside the couch and is clinging tightly to his limp, unresponsive hand. Blood loss was taking it's toll. Shortly after Dawn had administered the antidote, the other three had left her in peace in the office, since the space seemed far too small for them all to be worrying and pacing about. Unfortunately, the moment that they left, Dawn had done the unthinkable: she had locked the office door and barred it with Angel's desk. And now, she is as pale as death, and can feel her lids growing heavy with sleep .. maybe it would be as eternal as Buffy's and she would -finally- be at peace.

_~ Torrents of rain fell thick as blood and cold as ice from the cloudless black sky. Dawn was drenched immediately, trying so hard to pay no mind to the violent chills that wrack her slender frame. She's actually trying to -forget- that it's raining since it is, after all, just a -dream-. And yet, it felt .. -very- real._

_She finds herself standing on a flooded street, wanting to -scream- when she realizes why the the puddle she's standing in up to her ankles is so warm. She is not standing in water .. she is standing in black blood. Now it didn't seem so strange that it was raining from a cloudless sky, or that it smelled metallic all around her. This wasn't rain, it was the antidote. __**/ Eww! That .. that means .. I-I'm covered ... IN BLOOD! Gross! / **__The thought was a near hysterical squeal. _

_**/ Careful, dawn .. not so loud! / **__Ok, any thoughts about blood dissolve when she hears Angel's voice within her mind. Maybe there was still hope after all. _

_**/ Where! / **__Is the only fervent demand she can make .. but there is no reply. So, she does the only thing she can .. she follows that strange sort of tingling feeling across her senses, following her instincts .. which leads her to the opening of a dark alley she can barely see in to. After walking for what feels like a dozen city blocks, she begins to see something up ahead, nearly screaming, though she manages to keep herself silent. _

_Angel is tied up, shirtless and wounded, to the dead end of the alley way. Now, as enticing a though as Dawn may have found the thought of Angel tied and shirtless, the fact that a large, neon pink demon oozing mucus stood to his left, and there were gaping wounds on his chest dripping thick crimson .. it kind of dampened any good thoughts._

_**"Stow it already, pink. Didn't your Mother teach you not to play with your food! That is so -yuck-!"**__ Ok, it's hard to tell who is more surprised by Dawn's sudden, spirited outburst .. Angel, the Corvicus demon, or Dawn herself. But, at least she had it's attention now. She quickly, and suddenly, kicks her boots off, turning to leave them on the ground behind her, turning and shrinking back in just enough time to barely escape two of the clawed hands._

_**"Acckk!"**__ She squeals in surprise at the demon's speed. It turns to swing again and she does a forward tumble, grabbing a jagged piece of metal from a pile of junk to the side of them as she goes. She hears a sudden, loud cracking sound, like splintering wood and breaking glass through the alley ~_

**"Careful, Charles! We've no idea what sort of state they're in!"** Wes interjects sternly as Gunn busts the office door in.

**"He so had better -not- take this out of my pay!"** Cordelia screeches softly . but it becomes a scared scream when she looks in and sees Dawn in the chair. Her forehead was oozing blood, and her shoulder looked as if something had clawed and slashed it. She turns and runs to grab the first aid kit.

_~ She grunts in pain as she dodges to the left, one of the catching her in the shoulder, slicing through skin and sending her into a wall, the sickening crack of her forehead connecting with blood splattered brick causing a growl from Angel. She whimpers in pain as she manages to climb unsteadily to her feet, realizing that the demon has turned it's attentions back in Angel. Dawn uses this time to turn, running to where her boots still sit in the middle of the alley. ~_

**"Careful, Cordelia! I do not believe young Dawn is merely sleeping. You see, we had to use a certain amount of her blood to make the Antidote. Well, as you remember, she is the Key, a mystical object that predates time, and therefore, is still relatively unknown. I believe the power contained in her blood may have linked her to Angel because of their .. connection to one another. She is -mentally- helping him fight off the infection. Accidentally waking her could kill them both!"**

**"Oh, puh-lease! -All- you had to do was say -not- to mess with her!" **

_~ ... the long piece of jagged, twisted metal rips through flesh, slices into tendon .. crackling through bone with such sickening sounds. The neon pink, mucus dripping head rolls to the side like some defective Pez dispenser and a bloodied, panting Dawn is cutting angel's bindings with the first, true smile he has seen from her since her arrival. _

_**"Yeah, what would you do without me? You know that this -so- obliterates -any- curfew, Angel." **__She uses the jagged metal to cut the first tangle of rope at his left wrist, and once that is free, Angel begins to untie the second, Dawn squatting next to the fallen demon, her boot in hand. _

_**"Dawnie .. I don't think now is the time for fashion advice .. come to think of it, what are you doing here, and why does -everything- smell like you! I mean, I knew that I was over the edge and everything, but this is ridiculous! I mean -"**_

_**"Angel, shut up and stand back, already!" **__She orders, and more surprisingly, the vampire complies, quickly stepping back, away from the monster and the teenager. She rolls the demon with a very audible 'EWWW!' and shoves the open end of the boot down it's gaping net, forcing the antidote deep in to it's system, the creature suddenly bubbling and melting. Angel walks forward cautiously and gives her a hand up .. right into his arms, though he fidgets as he holds her._

_**"So, Dawn ... do you really l-" **_

* * *

Angel sits bolt upright, panting for unneeded breath as his gaze sweeps the office almost desperately. The first thing to catch his eyes is the splintered, shattered door.

**"Okay, which one of you is paying for that?"** He quips halfheartedly. When no one answers, he forces himself to look away from the door, fighting down his panic when he -smells- that Dawn is bleeding. The unique smell of her blood is so overwhelming, it hits him like a brick wall, and he gasps. He is off the couch and stumbling in the direction of the smell before he even realizes that he's moving. He drops to his knees next to her chair, taking her hand as she had taken his earlier, with trembling care.

**"Wes .. how the hell could you let her do that? Use her -own- blood for the antidote! She almost got herself killed!"** Angel's voice cracks on several of the words, the emotions swirling within him proving too much. None of them had heard him this emotional, and it was a little hard for them to take. When Cordelia finishes bandaging Dawn, she takes a few steps back, gently bumping into Gunn's side, and he responds by threading his arm carefully around her.

**"I apologize, Angel. I only looked away for a moment to reference a term. When I turned back, she had already opened a vein. However, there was no help for it, Angel. The antidote called for the **_**'essence of innocence,'**_** and as Miss Dawn pointed out, none but her fit that description in the Hyperion. And, as she ahs -undoubtedly- proven by that little .. expedition into your mind, she was -not- prepared to let you die. None of us were! So, rather than place blame for a particularly stubborn young woman's actions, perhaps we should concentrate on helping said woman, yes? Gunn, would you be so kind as to fix our young friend something to eat? There should be some stew in the firdge. Now, Cordelia, we shall run up ahead of Angel and prepared Dawn's bed."** Had someone outside of their group seen this display, they would undoubtedly mistake the long-winded Wyndum-Pryce as the boss, so was his authoritative manner in this moment. However, everyone snaps to and does as he says.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own them, just enjoy writing about them!

Author's Note: I know that the song contained in this chapter wasn't out around the time this stuff happened in Buffy, but I like the lyircs, and they seem to fit Dawn in this story. :)

Chapter 6

Ring ... Ring ... the phone had been ringing incessantly all morning! Gunn and Cordelia were running an errand and Wes was making a show of cleaning the downstairs and arranging the things that Spike had brought that belonged to Dawn, trying to reassure the girl, once she woke up .. if she ever woke up, that she did indeed have a -place- within the Hyperion. Spike had not only brought Dawn's clothes, but things like furniture from her room, music boxes, books, pictures and what have you. So, Wes is currently ignoring the phone to finish integrating Dawn into their lives at the Hyperion, desperately trying to ignore the fact that it will be only a matter of weeks before she will have to leave once more. He is honestly considering petitioning the Scoobies to allow Dawn to stay. They could enroll her in school, and she could live here, with them. He shakes his head, to clear it, and goes back to concentrating on where the best place to put Dawn's leather swivel chair would be. Finally, he settles it at the 'research table' across from Angel's high backed chair, figuring that would be safer than placing it -next- to Angel, knowing that it would be unwise to add any encouragement for the two to sit too close together should the need for research arise. Well, -when-, since they all knew it was their way of life.

RING! The shrill scream of the phone pierces Wes' thoughts, and he turns angrily to walk toward the phone. However, he freezes almost instantly, and then takes a few steps **back** when he sees a **very** irrate, scowling Angel descending the stairs quickly. From the rumpled state of his hair .. the current shirtless state of his dress, and the angry growl that passed for a greeting, he had obviously just woken up.

**"Grrrwhat!"** Angel snarls groggily in to the receiver of the phone, moodily running his fingers through his feathery hair, trying to scatter it across his forehead so that it is no longer sticking almost straight up. When he hears a soft gulp on the other end of the line, he can't explain the sudden anger that sweeps through him.

**"W-Who .. is this? Can .. can I talk to Dawnie?"** David squeaks from his end of the phone. And when Angel suddenly goes rigid, it becomes all too clear to Wes who his friend is conversing with. However, despite the sudden serpentine narrowed eyes and the flaring notstrils, Wes ventures closer in hopes of gathering some small piece of the conversation .. which proved hard as Angel's words were coming out somewhere between a growl and a snarl.

**"****This**** is ****Angel****! And no, ****David****, you can ****NOT**** talk to Dawn! She is ****asleep****, as was ****I****! So, how about you don't call back here ... ****ever****! This is bordering on stalking and harassing, kid. So, we clear on that? Uh-huh ... uh-huh ... good!"** Angel slams the reciever back into it's cradle, all anger immediately dissipating, to be replaced by weariness and fear. It had been exactly 51 hours since Dawn had saved his life, and she still had yet to awaken after the ordeal. Everyone was concerned, and the only reason Cordelia and Gunn were not in the Hotel, pacing the lobby floor was because they had been dispatched to pick up a scroll Lorne had told them about. Angel rubs his hand down his pale features, rubbing at his cheeks with a stale sigh before plopping into his high backed chair. After a few languid flutters of his sleep heavy lashes, he realizes that he's not seeing things. There is, indeed, a chair opposite him that **definitely** did not belong, given the fact it was covered in bright, witty stickers, devils pretending to be angels, psychadelic flowers, and had patches of things like SpongeBob Squarepants sewn into the leather. Without realizing what he does, he stretches his long legs beneath the desk/table, his feet gently propped up in Dawn's chair. As he continues to look around, he saw other things representative of Dawn in the Hotel. Pictures of her, the Scoobies, and her Mum had been placed on the desks, walls, and other surfaces, as had a few posters, vases, and other things that were all Dawn's taste. For one moment, he thinks the sight of them might actually cause his shriveled heart to beat with the pain of Dawn's absence.

**"Damn, that is the ****last**** time I take this walking disaster with me if you guys ain't gonna be there!" **Gunn huffs in anger as he strolls through the doors into the Hotel. He is covered in a rather putrid smelling purple, pus-like gunk, Cordelia entering behind him, the delicate scroll sticking haphazardly out of her purse. She, surprise surprise, is perfectly clean! And though the two are slightlyt aken aback by the rumpled appearance of Angel, neither of them ackowledge it for now. After all, they both knew why he was disheveled, and they were all doing their best **not** to think of Dawn up in her room, having not woken up yet. Gunn plops into the chair next to Dawn's while Cordy tosses the scroll uncaringly on the middle of the table, Wes immediately scooping it up and frowning incessantly over it.

**"So ... how are things ... ****here**** ...?"** For once, Queen C manages a bit of tact as she looks around, seeking to catch the gaze of Wes or Angel, hoping for an update on the youngest Summers. When no one meets her gaze, or speaks up, sadness descends upon her. Everyone was so caught up in their own little world of grief and worry, they didn't see the bedrumpled teen come to a hault and lean against the rail at the bottom of the stairs.

**"****Things**** are just peachy ... but, I'm sorta hungry. Ohh! What do you have there, Wesley?"** Dawn's words were cheerful and energetic enough, and she finds herself having to hide a smile when every head in the room turns in her direction, followed instantly by three persons hurtling in her direction. Wes reaches her first, the scroll craddled in one arm, his other sliding around her in a tight, trembling hug. Next was Cordy, who hugged her just as tightly, with both arms, before reaching up to gently finger a few strands of limp hair.

**"You know, you would look so pretty with some highlights and curls."** Dawn giggles softly at that piece of out-of-place information, knowing it was Cordy's way of saying she is glad Dawn is alright. Surprisingly, Gunn starts to reach out to hug her next, and she backpedals quickly, her nostrils flaring in disgust. He is really hurt by the sudden movement, but manages to hide the look before anyone else can see.

**"Eww! Ok, no ****way**** are you getting a hug until you take a ****major**** bath, buddy!"** A rather relieved smile breaks across Gunn's features, and he gives a playful 'psshh,' before he turns to look at the others.

**"Yo, half-pint is right, brah. I need some serious cleanage. I'll see you guys later."** Once Gunn exits, Wes and Cordelia turn and walk back to the research area, leaving Angel and Dawn alone by the foot of the stairs. That intense, brooding brown gaze glittered with relief and lingering fear.

**"Dawn, I -"** Angel's voice nearly cracks, but he does not react when she interrupts.

**"It's nothing, Angel. No curfews, and we're even .. alright?"** Of course, what she doesn't say is just how relieved she is to be face-to-face with him again. She releases a breath she didn't know she was holding until his strong, bare arms wrap gently, protectively about her and pulled her close to his bare chest in a tight hug. She sighs heavily as a means to keep herself from crying as she rests her cheek against his bare chest, not in the least bit put off over the lack of a heartbeat.

**"Not to break up this adorable scene, or anything, but uhm .. scroll .. important .. risked my life to get? Ok, ok, ****Gunn's**** life, but still!"** Cordelia makes sure to add the last part at the incredulous looks from her friends. Dawn and Angel jump apart at the words, Dawn blushing faintly, Angel not quite meeting Cordy's gaze, before they both make their way to the table. The presence of Dawn's favorite chair does -not- go unnoticed! In fact, it garners a squeal of happiness form the teen.

**"Ahh, I am glad you are pleased with the placement of your chair, Miss Dawn. Now, the scroll - -"** He finds himself interrupted by another squeal and a massive hug form Dawn, causing him to blush slightly. However, once she has seated herself in her favored chair, Wes sits the scroll in the middle of the tabl and settles, as Dawn picks it up and begins to examine it.

**"So, Wes .. what can you tell me about the scroll? As in .. where'd you get it, how'd you find out about it?" **Angel prompts softly,w earily, trying to keep his gaze off of Dawn across the table. Dawn promptly drops the scroll back on to the table, her face alarmingly pale as she jumps to her feet, the action causing everyone to look at her. She holds her hands up, trying to fend off the concern she can feel lurking.

**"Sit, discuss and all that! I'm just going .. to .. go make coffee, get something to drink." **Blushing, she tunrs and hurries out, into the kitchen, away from them. After a moment, the remaining three look at each other for a long moment, and settle to the business at hand.

**"Erm, that is .. Lorne. I mean, Lorne sent us after the scroll, Angel. One of the demons he read had a reference to it helping the Champion."** Wes finally manages to stammer the words out.

**"The Gryslos demon we had to face down to get the scroll said it was a prophesy of 'The Warrior and Champion.,' whoever they are." **Cordelia sighs, trying to be as helpful as she can, though she realizes that it's not much. Wes crosses his arms, the tip of his thumb coming to rest against his bottom lip in his most solemn thinking pose.

**"Unfortunately, I cannot depict the language it is written it .. it's unlike any heiroglyph I've ever seen. But, it ****is**** an early pictographic language." **Wes mutters almost as if to himself, as if he had forgotten that the others were in the room at the moment. So distracted are the three, they don't see Dawn standing a few feet away, a tray in hand.

**"It .. it's the language of the First Slayer. Er, at least, it's the language of the three Shaman jerks that chained her to the Earth." **She unloads coffee for Cordy and Wes, a glass of cold chocolate milk for herself, and warmed blood for Angel, in a mug so he could pretend it was coffee or something, and she also sets a plate containing a peanut butter and salami sandwich with her glass of chocolate, before carrying the tray over to sit on the front desk. Once she's settled in her chair, she realizes that Wesley is staring almost blankly at her, that Angel is sipping his blood, leveling that quiet, intense, broody gaze at her over the rim of his mug, and Cordy is sipping her coffee, half off in her own little world.

**"H-how do you know that, Dawnie?" **Wes finds himself so taken aback, that he lapses into the more intimate form of her nickname.

**"I recognize a few of the symbols .. a memory th-the Monks put in my mind." **Wes immediately begins to unroll the scroll again, and waits patiently for Dawn to take her seat. She watches as Wes sets the scroll down in the middle of the table, leaning forward in her chair to begin pointing things out. **"That one, that looks like a pice symbl with half moons on top and bottom .. that means Slayer. The drop sort of like a tear, with the curve coming off the top and bottom, means 'born of.' The one that looks like a cross on it's side, with the half crescents on top and bottom, is an .. an ancient power ..."** Of course, what she -fails- to state .. is that the ancient power depicted .. is The Key.

**"Therefore .. the Warrior is an ancient power born of the Slayer? But, that makes no sense! No Slayer on record has -ever- had a child .. they simply do not live long enough for such a thing to happen. It is one of the reasons the power of the Slayer does not pass down through bloodline. No Slayer has -ever- perpetuated a bloodline. However, with the head start you've given me, I think I can roughly translate the rest of it. Thank you, Dawn." **Wes spares the teen a brief, weary smile before he grabs the scroll and heads over toward the bookshelves to search for a few volumes that might aid in his translation.

**"Angel .. I'm going to be leaving in a little bit. I want to check something out in town." **She mumbles around a mouthful of peanutbutter and salami. Angel ceases sipping his blood, slowly leveling her with that intense gaze. It is obvious he wishes to say -no-, flat out, no argument, but he doesn't. Instead, he gives a single, curt nod. She had proven that she was stronger than she had likely ever been given credit for, and he knew that she deserved a little bit of trust. Dawn smiles slightly, gathering her things. **"Cordy? Could you help me in the kitchen for a minute?" **Cordelia blinks languidly, coming back to herself, before standing and following Dawn in to the kitchen, helping the teen unload the dirty dishes from the tray.

**"What's up, Dawnie?"**

**"I need your help with something, Cordy .. it's ****very**** important, but you have to promise me you won't tell Angel or Wes, or anyone else." **There was a solemnity in the teen that almost frightened Cordelia, and though she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, the sad, desperate look in Dawn's eyes convinced her against her better judgment.

**"Oh, alright, Dawn, I promise. Now, what is it?"**

**"I need to know how to get to Caritas by Cab .. I .. I need to talk to Lorne, like, **_**now**_**." **Cordy frowns, refilling the coffee mugs with a soft sigh. Like now, huh? That sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach increases, and the type of forboading feeling she usually gets right before a vision hits.

**"Alright. Weird, but, alright." **With a frown, Cordy grabs a post it note off the fridge, and writes something down, handing the paper to Dawn. Dawn folds it in half and turns, exiting the kitchen to head up to her room to shower and get dressed. Meanwhile, Cordelia heads back into the lobby, settling at the table to redistrubte the refilled mugs, settling down for reasearch mode.

The cab rolls to a stop, the squeaky plea for some WD-40 announcing the girls exodus from the vehicle, turning only long enough to toss the cab fare onto the front seat with a hurried thanks, and a soft sigh of nervousness. Dawn looks down at the pink sticky note in her hand, once the Cab has sped away, and then she glances back up at the dark, silent building. She takes a deep, slow breath and walks to the front door, her hand beating against the door with more force than one might have considered in her slight frame.

**"Can't you read the sign, buddy? The hours are ****clearly** **posted!" **Lorne whinges softly, closing the cashmere robe he wears with a groan as he ascends the stairs to the door that leads out of Caritas and up, on to the street. When he sees Dawn standing on the otherside of the door, he looks rather .. doubtfully at her. **"Sorry, sweetcake, but we're closed. And, I'm more than a little sure you're not old enough for the club scene yet, anyway." **

**"Please! It's important! My name is Dawn Summers, I'm staying at the Hyperion .. p-plea -"**

**"Wait! ****You're**** Dawnie! Angel has told me so much about you! Though .. he forgot to ****mention**** that you were in town. I'll just have to discuss that with him." **He sighs softly, stepping to the side to allow Dawn down, into the club.

**"Please, Mr. Lorne, sir .. Angel's been through a lot in the last few days and he doesn't know I'm here. He'd totally -freak-! So, yeah .. could you maybe .. not tell him?" **Lorne frowns at Dawn's pleading words, sighing as he closes the door and joins her at the bottom of the steps, before turning and leading her over to the bar, motioning for her to sit.

**"It's alright, sweetcheeks, just between me and , come over here and have a sit, and tell me what I can do to help you." **He didn't like the idea of not telling Angel and company something like this, but he could practically -taste- the desperation coming off the girl, and he couldn't help but feel instantly as worried and concerned over her as the others had been as of late.

**"I .. I think .. I might have a destiny, a Fate .. a path I'm supposed to follow. Cordelia told me that people sing for you, you read something in their aura or something, and then tell them what they should do." **When she sees Lorne begin to react, her immediate thought is that he's going to object, and she can feel her heart hammering painfully within her chest, her breathing trying to shorten in the desperation she is flooded with, so, she fumbles into her jeans pocket, pulling out a silk handkerchief. When she unwraps it, there is a necklace within. The chainw as platinum and white gold, the pendant a beautiful ople of blood red rubbies, with a centre of diamond and sapphire. **"I, I can't pay you outright, but, this was my Mom's! It's valuable, and you can sell it, pawn it, wh-whatever, and keep the money. But please, I just .. I need help." **By this point, Lorne was looking dumbfoundedly at the girl, his eyes the size of bright red saucers at not only the beauty of the necklace, but at the girl's desperate determination. He knew, by way of Angel, that the girl's Mum had died recently, so he knew just what it would cost her to give the necklace up. He reaches out, his hands gently folding her's back over the necklace, smiling faintly.

**"It's a beautiful piece of work, kiddo. It'll make a great family heirloom one day, so hold on to it, okay? Now, let me just ..." **He slides wearily off the stool, walking to the stage to look his karaoke equipment over with a sigh. Angel was going to kill him for this, he just knew it. He flips through the selections, stopping when something 'speaks' to him, smiling reassuringly at her as he waves her up. **"Alright, come on up, sweetcheeks, don't be shy. If Angelcake can do it, so can you. Hmm .. you seem like an Alanis type to me. How about .. Fear of Bliss." **Dawn can feel her pulse threading as nervousness sets in when the empath demon hands her the microphone, and shows her the screen she will be reading form. He steps off the stage and takes a seat at the first chair in front of her, waiting patiently for her to begin. He honestly figured he'd see nothing more than .. an eventual marriage, maybe a few kids .. the usual for a human .. not realizing that she is ancient and power in the guise of a teenager.

**"My misery has enjoyed company**

**And although I have ached**

**I don't threaten anybody**

**Sometimes I feel more bigness than I've shared with you**

**Sometimes I wonder why I quell when I'm not required to."**

The words flow forth effortlessly, Dawn feeling almost as if she had been taken over by some strange force. She just .. doesn't recognize the soft, strong, confident voice so perfectly singing the Alanis Morissette lyrics. For now, Lorne simply looks on in stunned silence.

**"I've tried to be small, I've tried to be stunted**

**I've tried roadblocks and all**

**My happy endings prevented**

**Sometimes I feel it's all just too big to be true**

**I sabotage myself for fear of what my bigness could do**

**Fear of bliss and fear of joyitude**

**Fear of bigness (and ensuing solitude?)**

**I could be golden**

**I could be glowing**

**I could be freedom**

**But that could be boring**

**Sometimes I feel this is too scary to be true**

**I sabotage myself for fear of losing you**

**Fear of bliss and fear of joyitude**

**Fear of bigness (and ensuing solitude?)"**

Despite that not technically being the end of the song, Dawn's voice fades out into the nothingness she had felt burdened with as of late. The lyrics ring so true to her heart, to her very **being**, that the song may as well have been summoned up through the Ether by the Powers That Be like some lost soul. Her slender frame had trembled with inhuman power -begging- to be released as she bore her soul through song, offered up her very -essence- to the Host. And it is clear, by the mixture of awe, shock, fear, and sadness that washes across Lorne's face .. whatever he has read is something he had -not- been expecting. Still clutching the mic, knuckles white with the exertion of it, Dawn looks down with tired, weary eyes. Now, anyone who knows the Host, knows that he's pretty confident in his abilities. However, he looks almost confused as he once more fiddles with the karaoke machine, calling up another song.

**"Ok, lets try this again, shall we? Sorry, Dawn, just .. please, bare with me ..." **She gives a jerky, sort of confused nod of consent, watching as the screen once more leaps to life, the song Night Ride Across The Caucasus by Loreena Mckennitt playing. She knew the song, not really well, but she had heard Tara listen to the album. Personally, Dawn preffered The Highwayman.

**"Ride on Through the night Ride on**

**Ride on Through the night Ride on .."**

Once again, Dawn's voice rises perfectly to the song, soft and lilting against the Celtic music.

**"There are visions, there are memories**

**There are echoes of thundering hooves**

**There are fires, there is laughter**

**There's the sound of a thousand doves.**

**In the velvet of the darkness**

**By the silhouette of silent trees**

**They are watching, they are waiting**

**They are witnessing life's mysteries.**

**Cascading stars on the slumbering hills**

**They are dancing as far as the sea**

**Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand**

**Leading on to its destiny.**

**Take me with you on this journey**

**Where the boundaries of time are now tossed**

**In cathedrals of the forest**

**In the words of the tongues now lost.**

**Find the answers, ask the questions**

**Find the roots of an ancient tree**

**Take me dancing, take me singing**

**I'll ride on till the moon meets the sea.**

**Ride on Through the night Ride on**

**Ride on Through the night Ride on."**

As the music fades, she opens her eyes to regard the awestruck Host.

**"Wow. So, the Powers were right. You really are the Key to everything."**


	7. The Finale

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Note: The final chapter! and reviews are loved!

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The Finale

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**"She's still not answering her cellphone. Are you **_**sure**_** that she made no mention of where she was going!" **Poor Wes was nearly in hysterics, glaring angrily at his cell phone, as if somehow it were the culprit keeping him from getting in touch with the teenager. He couldn't understand why, but for some reason, Dawn's being in town, away from them, was causing him flashbacks of his failure with Faith.

**"For the last time, Wes. NO. She did NOT tell me where she was going! I gave her the cellphone, and told her to be careful, and have fun. Oh, and, erm .. I also .. sorta .. toldhershehasnocurfew." **(told her she has no curfew) When Wes suddenly levels a livid look at him, Angel ducks back, behind the newspaper he had been pretending to read since shortly after Dawn left. Well, that's not entirely true. He had actually **attempted** to read the damn thing, but after repeating the same sentence 13 times, he had given up on anything but the pretense.

**"What bloody well happened to ELEVEN O'CLOCK! Are you mad! You've no idea what sort of monsters roam this city's streets! Erm .. ok .. so maybe ****you**** do, but, young ****Dawn**** does not! At this very moment, she might be suffering a mauling at the claws of some horrible monster!"**

**"... or, she could be at Caritas." **Both men turn to regard Cordelia, who is blissfully unaware of what she has said. However, after a mental replay of her words, realization sinks in, and she blanches slightly. She stands quickly, grabbing her purse in hand and heading for the door. **"You know, technically, I'm not working at the moment, so I think I'll just - -" **She had her hand on the door, and thought she was home free, until ...

**"Walk out that door, and I will dock your pay for the full week, Cordelia." **Angel speaks the words softly, calmly, and yet, it does more damage than his rampaging would have. She jumps back from the door and turns to face him in disbelief.

**"Fine, fine, I'm staying already."**

**"Cordy .. ****why**** would Dawn to to Caritas? I mean, how does she even ****know**** about Caritas?" **Again, Angel seemed surprisingly .. calm.

**"I .. might have told her about that time you sang Barry Manilow to help a case while she and I were out to lunch that one day ..." **All brooding aside, Angel looked both mortified and angry .. and confused. And yet, the mortification and anger are more about Dawn knowing about Manilow than anything else.

**"Well, I think a trip to Caritas is in order!" **Wes suddenly, and loudly, exclaims in a near squeal. Wordlessly, Angel crosses to grab his trench, shrugging it on before he lightly grabs Cordelia by the arm.

**"We'll pick up your boy on the way. He'll come in handy if we have to go look for her."**

The bitter, smokey scent of sandalwood twists and turns to twine with the soothing scents of Jasmine and honeysuckle. The sickeningly sweet incense smoke clings to the wiry frame of the seated form.

**"To the Power that does not waiver, **

**I seek now thy ancient favor!**

**I summon thee now, to me,**

**I request of you, hear my plea!"**

The smoke thickens, the alley in which the teenager sits cross legged begins to shimmer and fade, replaced by a Grecian pillared courtyard, a man and woman standing before her.

**"How dare you summon us! We do **_**NOT**_** converse with **_**LESSER**_** beings! How have you summoned us without being present at the gate!"**

**

* * *

**

**"Is it the day for before-hour visits, or what! Hey, I don't remember ordering extra crispy!" **Lorne whinges as he throws the door open, and a smoke billowing blanket comes running into the room. Gunn, Cordelia, and Wes come spilling in behind Angel as he rips the blanket off and looks frantically around the room.

**"Where the hell is she, Lorne?" **Angel demands with a hint of a growl in his words that he is sorely trying to suppress.

**"Calm down, Angelcakes. Dawn was here, but she left about an hour and a half ago. I tell you, if I **_**ever**_** decide to go live performance, that girl will **_**always**_** have a job here!"**

**"She sang for you!" **The worry is evident in Wes' words as he moves to sit on a stool.

**"Sang! She nearly brought me to tears, kiddo! Lot of pain and secrecy hidden away in that poor creature. Which, ****BY THE WAY****, why did no one tell me she is the Key!" **

**"NOT of the important right now, Lorne! What did you read and where did she go?"**

**"When she sang the first time, I read a Prophesy in her soul. The second time she sang, I read her .. intentions .. toward you, Angel. So, I sent her to people who could help her with both."**

**

* * *

**

**"... yeah, yeah, you're the all powerful Oracles, mortals tremble. I'm here on behalf of your Poster Boy, Angel. My name is Dawn Summers - -"**

**"Th-the ****KEY****!" **Both Oracles exclaim in awed unison. Now, the Oracles are known for being snotty, snobby, holier-than-thou-art types, at least that is what Lorne told her, so she is more than a little surprised when the male drops to one knee in reverence and supplication, and his sister bows her head.

**"Forgive my sister, oh Ancient One. She merely gave the proper response that is used to weed out those not truly brave enough, or worthy, to seek out our help. How might we be of service, My Lady?"**

**"Ok, it's like this ..."**

* * *

Once Lorne coaxed everyone to sit, namely a pacing, irate vampire, he begins to explain.

**"So, the poor creature showed up, banging a hole in my door, begging me for help. Imagine -my- surprise, since I didn't even realize she was in -town-! She started trying to offer me -things- .. Angel, calm down, back off, I meant -jewelry- things! Anyway, I finally agreed to do a reading, and she begged me not to tell you, because she was worried about everything you've been through lately, Angelcakes. She sang for me .. I tell you, the girl was like a -professional-!"**

**"Dude, get to the point!" **Gunn snaps angrily, always quick to temper.

**"Erm, right. I was really surprised by the reading .. there were these strange pictographic symbols, and something about a Champion, and a Warrior .." **

**"The prophecy from the scroll you sent us after! But, how does that pertain to Dawnie?" **Wes sighs softly, pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing when he realizes that the damned headache is beginning once more. Angel growls and jumps up from his seat.

**"Damn it, that's just it! How could we have missed it, Wes! Don't you see, that's why she left the room so quickly after she looked at the scroll!"**

**"Ok, Cryptic much ..! Fill us in, Angel!" **Cordelia snaps, feeling annoyed by this point.

**"Dawn's not -young-, you guys. You just think of her that way. She's really an ancient, powerful entity .. the Key. She's the 'once ancient power born of the Slayer.' You guys, ****Dawn**** is the 'warrior' sent to aid the Champion." **By the time he's through talking, Angel has plopped gracelessly back into his chair.

**"Right .. but, it's a bit more complicated than that, Angelcakes. The warrior must make a .. a sacrifice .. in the name of love, for the Champion. I didn't tell Dawn that part. As far as she was concerned, she was here for one reason, and one reason only: To try and find a way to anchor your soul."**

**

* * *

**

**"... the Key is ancient, all powerful, and .. all of that. So, here's the deal .. I'm willing to give all of that power up to you, if you will anchor Angel's soul to him, -permanently-." **Dawn states calmly. For the first time in her life, imaginary or otherwise, she isn't afraid, or worried. For the first time, she is -sure-, confident.

**"You would .. ****willingly**** .. give you life .. for a vampire's **_**happiness**_**?" **The female Oracles asks softly, a not of disbelief in her voice. Her brother, without looking up at Dawn, smirks faintly, his words just as soft.

**"No, Sister. She would willingly give her life for **_**love**_** .. the ****Warrior**** would sacrifice her ****life**** for her **_**Champion**_**." **Both sets of eyes peer up, darkening to a deep amber in shade as they regard Dawn quietly for a moment. The male stands suddenly, putting the Oracles side by side once more, their hands reaching out in front of them, toward Dawn.

**"SO BE IT!" **They exclaim as one. Dawn feels almost as if fingers are suddenly probing her form, coming to rest in the centre of her. And then she feels it .. a slow burn deep beneath her skin, kind of like one of those phantom itches that burns deeper and harder when you try to scratch it. Except this hurt. A -lot-. She feels like her blood is boiling and her insides are being peeled apart like a banana ..one strip of flesh at a time! But, she doesn't scream. Tears stream down her cheeks, and her jaw sets, clenched against the pain .. but, the thought of Angel -finally- being able to find happiness keeps her from screaming.

* * *

Angel hits his knees with a blood curdling scream .. that causes Wes to scream like a frightened school girl in surprise .. causes Lorne to duck for cover behind the bar .. and Cordelia to fall out of her chair, flat on her arse.

**"Bloody hell! What's wrong, Angel!" **Wes is the first to recover enough to question his friend's condition, all the while silently -swearing- to himself it was -CORDELIA- that had screamed like that .. yes, had to be. Geek aside, he was far too -manly- to make such a noise!

**"D-Dawn .. her .. her blood in me .. The Key, it's .. it's .. ****dying****!" **Tears stream in thick torrents down Angel's cheeks as he gasps the words as if a man that could not, for the life of him, catch his breath .. though, obviously, he didn't -need- to catch his breath. He feels a deep burning in his chest, and knows that a part of him was dying right along with the Key .. which meant that Dawn was dying. Another shrill, pain filled feminine scream rips through the night club .. only this time, it really -is- Cordelia. Her rigid form is held protectively in Gunn's arms as she convulses.

**"Oh, God. Sh-she .. she's close. We have to hurry!" **Cordy struggles to stand, feeling Gunn anchoring her as she moves, the others following close behind.

* * *

Breath catches, ragged and weak, within slowly stilling lungs. Tendrils of chestnut hair sprawls across pale, soft features in a display of macabre beauty. Green flecked blue eyes stare, glassy, into nothingness .. unseeing, the light fading with every quivered breath. And then, he is there, almost as if appearing out of thin air. Angel falls to his knees next to Dawn's prone form, scooping her into his strong, protective arms, infinitely gentle with the young woman.

**"D-Dawn .. no .. no, please .. D-Dawnie!" **Angel howls the words in brokenhearted desperation and despair, as if by voicing them, it will somehow bring her back to him. So close to death is the young woman, that no pain registers when Angel loses control of his strength in the midst of his emotional pain.

**"A-Angel .. I .. I love you .." **Dawn manages to whisper the pained words just loud enough for his supernatural hearing to pick it up. Angel sobs softly, but fiercely at those words, his form shaking uncontrollably for a moment as the pain continues to blossom through out him, as he -feels- Dawn fading away in his arms. Some Champion he had proven to be .. he couldn't even save her. Then, he finally does what he had been dreaming of doing since Thanksgiving, never making the connection that Dawn had not been in existence then .. he presses his lips against her tear-stained petals, murmuring with all of his heart and pent up emotion.

**"I love you too, Dawn." **Words that made little sense, and yet .. from the moment he had seen her when she arrived in LA, had been the truest words he ever longed to express. He sobs harder, louder when he feels her last breath caress his salt-crusted lips .. heard the final erratic beat of her heart before it suddenly falters .. and stops. And in that moment, he feels something that is so uttelry -impossible-, and yet, he is too deep in shock to realize: He feels warmth flushing his form .. and even as Dawn's heart gives it's final thump, he feels his own give a singular, solitary beat before falling silent once more.

**"The Key has given her life for the one she loves, as it was prophecised so long ago. The 'warrior' has claimed her Champion. Do you accept?" **Angel blinks through his tears when he realizes that the Oracles are suddenly just .. there. He had just lost Dawn, but she, through her sacrifice of love .. through her -death- .. had done what nothing else had been able to thus far: cemented his right as a Champion. She had given him something he had -never- had before: The _**choice**_ to become a Champion.

**"Yes .. I accept." **He manages to cease his tears, speaking as calmly as possible given the fact he is still cradling Dawn's lifeless body in his arms. The Oracles smile softly, and speak as if one.

**"The Key has chosen well. Her sacrifice has been accepted, and the Key is no more. Witness the birth of the Warrior." **At first, Angel doesn't even hear their words, so deep is his despair. But, when there is a sudden, sharp intake of breath from the one he holds, the words sink in.

**"D-Dawn ..!"**

_**The End**_


End file.
